


Letting a Dream Die

by Mystralist



Category: Game of Thrones (TV Show), The Witcher (Game)
Genre: Angst, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Post Season 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-15 09:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12318561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystralist/pseuds/Mystralist
Summary: The story starts where season 7 of GoT leaves off after Cersei threatened to kill Jaime.Jaime travels North to unite with the King in the North and Daenerys Targaryen to warn them and fight by their side against the Night King. As he struggles to escape Cersei's wrath, he bumps into people on the road. Someone he was hoping to find and others he wasn't prepared for. The fate of Westeros seems to take a new unexpected turn with the appearance of a white haired man and a dark skinned woman and in all this tumult, Jaime finds himself finally being where his heart wanted to be for a very long time.





	1. Scarlett Snow

**Author's Note:**

> I'm about ⅓ through writing this story, so I thought it is time I start posting it :).  
> It is a crossover of Game of Thrones and The Witcher. Please note, I lean on the TV Show Game of Thrones, not the books, and I also use The Witcher Games, not the books. Also, English is not my native language, so be a bit patient with me when it comes to easy sentences and maybe repetitive words. I expect to get better as the story continues.
> 
> I'm not entirely sure where this story leads me since it already took me to a completely different place I initially wanted it to go. I will add new tags and characters as they appear.
> 
> Please excuse any mistakes. So far I don't have a beta except myself. Any volunteers are more than welcome :).
> 
> I will post the first 6 chapters within the next two days. From then on I'm not sure how often I will be able to update, but I would like to aim at every two weeks. Fingers crossed I can keep that up.
> 
> Everyone is welcome to read this story and if only one reader will find it enjoyable, my efforts payed off :). Please feel free to leave any comments with your thoughts and insights, it will be much appreciated.
> 
> Ok, enough with the talking, let's start the story. Enjoy! :)

Snow had been falling all through the night. The first dawn could be seen in the distance, at the edge of the world. Kings Landing was still silent and empty in these early hours, especially the castle. But Cersei was awake. Like a black lean tower she stood at a window facing North, watching snow flakes swirl past her expressionless face. Her left hand was holding her belly, her right hand a full glass of wine. She didn’t drink it. Although she wanted to. Desperately wanted to.

‘Your grace.’

‘What news, Grandmaster?’ Cersei asked in her soft, airy voice without turning around.

‘Your brother is gone. His chambers remained empty through the night. The whole castle has been searched several times. And one of our best war horses is reported missing.’

Cerseis grip on her wine glass tightened and she swung it around with her delicate hand, watching the dark red liquid dance to her movements.

‘Send Ser Preston Greenfield with some good men after him North.’

‘At once, your grace.’

‘What about his sellsword?’ the Queen asked.

‘Vanished without a trace as well, though his horse is still here.’

‘Find him and bring him to me.’

‘Certainly, your grace.’

A short silence.

‘When… when they find Ser Jaime, what will be the orders?’

‘Highest degree of treason to the crown. The man who brings me his head gets the highest reward in gold any man could ever dream of.’ Cersei said mercilessly.

Then she didn’t speak any more, obviously waiting for Qyburn to leave. When he didn’t seem to move, she said coldly: ‘That’ll be all.’

‘Your grace.’ Qyburn bowed, turned around and left the Queen to stare at the falling flakes again, landing on top of the thin white layer that had built up on the windowsill.

Exhaling deeply, she turned the wine glass slowly over so that the inside would spill slowly on the snow. It melted the white away instantly and creating a little scarlett puddle, shining vividly against the pearl white surrounding it.

‘No one walks away from me, brother dear.’ she whispered to the snow. And the snow remained silent and melted.


	2. The Witcher and the Kingslayer

Cold wind blew over the lands and pulled on the long grasses and branches of the trees. Little snow flakes got swept to the left and right, victims to the changing moods of the wind.  
A tall man was standing in the middle of a meadow, the tall grass reaching his booted ankles as he moved forward smooth and swift , a noble sword in his left hand. With every sword swing he exhaled a white cloud of breath into the cool evening air.  
One swift movement of attack, lunging forward to sink his sword into an imaginary enemy in front of him, then quickly retreating, spinning around to escape a counter attack. Then pressing forward again . The quick movements let his dark cloak swirl, his hood fall from his head, revealing a serious, concentrated face.

Jaime Lannister had been one of the best swordsmen alive. No one could beat him in a fight. And what was he now?

His green eyes flashed angrily as he lunged forward again. And again. And again. His sword cut through the cold air like thunder. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left.

‘Argh.’ His face froze, his breath held, his movements stopped. The sword got out of balance again, swaying too much to the left, leaving his left hand trembling and struggling to bring it back to the middle.

Jaimes eyes narrowed in anger, teeth gritting as he finally brought it back to his middle and continued swinging. Would he fight an actual enemy right now, he would be dead.

This could not go on like this. He had been training his left hand for so long now and still it would forsake him its services. Would not hold the sword hard enough, would not strike fast enough, would cramp up for no reason at all. He had the impression it got worse the more he tried.

How was he to make it to Winterfell like this? He wouldn’t even survive the next days should he run into trouble. How was he supposed to defend himself? What in seven hells had he been thinking? Running off like that.

Because you swore it.

Yeah, right. Because Ser Jaime Kingslayer Lannister was known for upholding his oaths.

Then again, he wasn’t sure if he would still live had he not left Kings Landing right there and then when his beloved Twin sister had threatened to cut him in half by the Mountain.

This thought sent a stabbing pain through his chest as if his imaginary opponent had just landed a counter strike in his heart. He stopped mid movement, eyes looking defeated.

Defeated by his sister. As always. He had always let himself be defeated by her. Happily for the most part. Without a fight. Because he loved her. He was hers. And she was his. Had been. Not anymore.

Jaime wasn’t sure when it really had begun that they had grown apart. He suspected it had started long before he wanted to see it, but he refused to pin it down exactly. It didn’t matter.

All these times he chose her over everything else. Over his duties, over his place as heir to the family, over his beliefs, over himself in every aspect. It was who they were. Standing in for each other against all odds. In a world of deception and treachery the only rock to cling on to. Until that rock was no more. 

Cersei had decided, at one point for whatever reason, to set the pace, to choose the direction alone. To take the lead, let Jaime march behind her. He noticed that, but was willing to accept this and follow. Until the path she had decided on slowly became darker and darker and the hard truth in Jaime grew bigger and bigger. The truth that he could not follow her anymore. That the path she had chosen was not for him. Was never meant for him. Only for her. And whenever he tried to call out to her, reach out to her, she would walk even faster, away from him. She knew he wasn’t happy with her new choices, her new directions. And she didn’t care. Because Jaime didn’t count anymore. She didn’t need him anymore. She was Queen now. She could accomplish everything she wanted to herself. Her twin brother had grown useless as her tool of action. 

If someone had told Jaime how she would turn on him, how things would play out, how she would eventually make him leave, he would not have believed it. Never.

But it had come to it. Because he refused to break his promises. Her promises. To the whole of Westeros. To leave it to its fate. Being ignorant and selfish enough to believe it was not her war. To let them run into their end without even twitching a finger. And expecting him to do the same. And kill him if he dared questioning her. Which he did. For a long time already in his mind. And finally out loud.

But would she really have killed me? 

He had said he didn’t believe her. Thinking back on it now he wasn’t so sure anymore. But also this , like so many other things, didn’t matter anymore. It was done, he was gone. Officially titled a traitor of the crown, charged with treason. 

Jaime didn’t know what the Queen would do, if she would immediately sent after him when she realized he had gone. He probably had gotten a heads up since he didn’t expect Cersei to immediately notice he was gone. He doubted she would have believed him capable of actually leaving. But then, maybe she had. 

I don’t know her anymore.

He needed to get North as fast as possible, and maybe he could even manage to catch up with Brienne and her squire.

That thought sent a weird feeling through his body he couldn’t quite explain. He felt his heard squeezing.

Fuck loyalty, she had said. Indeed. He had to stop to take her advice literally.

‘Hey, pretty boy.’

A voice dragged him out of his thoughts and he whirled around. 

Seven hells, the Kingsguard. They got me so quickly? You really are pathetic these days, Jaime Lannister.

But it wasn’t the Kingsguard. It was a man. Alone. Hooded, on a brown mare.

Jaimes green eyes quickly ran over him to try and get as much information out of his appearance as possible. 

The mare was ordinary, no high bred, but tall and muscular. The man sitting on it seemed tall and muscular as well, but he couldn’t see his face properly. He wore a strange grey armor beneath his black cloak Jaime had never seen before which seemed of a weird material. No sigils.

‘Who are you?’ he asked sharply, gripping hard the hilt of his sword.

‘Just a poor lonesome traveler on the road.’

Lonesome might be true, poor was not. He didn’t look much, but the little he carried with him was proper, good material. Fine saddle, thick cloak, good armor. And a lot of weapons. From what Jaime could make out, two massive swords bound to the mans back, a crossbow and several short knives bound to the saddle side facing him.

‘What do you want?’ Jaime asked.

‘Satisfy my curiosity.’ the foreigner replied. He had a weird accent the Queens brother couldn’t place.

‘Which is?”

‘How a pretty wealthy boy like yourself could be so foolish as to travel alone in these lands with only one hand.’

Jaime stiffened up, his eyes flashing for a second to his right arm. There it was, long and healthy, the thick leather glove covering its sudden ending. There was no way he could have seen it. His eyes narrowed and wandered back to the strange man.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You only have one hand.’ This time the man pointed even at Jaimes right side. His mare snorted and danced on the spot impatiently. One smooth padding of the rider and his horse calmed again.

Jaime lifted both his arms at his sides. ‘Two hands. Here, see? Now if you don’t mind, I’m rather busy.’

‘You think those gloves fool me?’ there was amusement now in his voice.

‘Why don’t you just tell me what it is you want and be on your way?’ Jaime replied, his voice growing impatient.

The foreigner ignored his last remark completely and instead went on: ‘If I had to guess, I’d say you have some sort of dummy under this glove, probably iron.’

Jaime felt caught. Which made his anger swell even more. ‘Alright, enough of this ridicule. I have no idea who you are or what it is you are after, but if you don’t give your horse the heel instantly, I’ll have to start sparring with your balls instead.’

This sent a grin to the face of his questioner and he swiftly got off his horse and drew one of his swords from his back.

Good job, Jaime, he thought, teeth gritting. Now what?

‘Bring it on then.’ The foreigner said, positioning himself.

He had no choice. The Kingslayer had no idea if his opponent was a good fighter or not, but given he was armed up to his teeth and simply the way he swung his sword at his side right now already told him that he was way better than him. And then again, who wasn’t these days?

Jaime positioned himself too and nodded. ‘You are going to regret this.’ He had no idea where these statements were coming from and he knew it was pointless, but he let his anger and frustration take over in the hope that these emotions of anger would guide his left hand somehow stronger and more skilled than his ambition.

Swords clang at each other. First, Jaime swung his sword a few times, putting his opponent in the defense and making him retreat. Then, the foreigner got the upper hand and made Jaime retreat instead. They exchanged some more sword hits back and forth. Still careful, assessing the other, studying each others movements, their fighting character.

‘See, that’s what I mean.’, the dueller said.

‘Which is?’ Jaime asked, teeth still gritted.

‘Your posture. It is perfect. The way you move, quick and elegant. Seamless legwork. You are a trained swordsman, a fancy one on top. But then, at the same time…’ his blows started to be harder now, quicker. Jaime had a harder time warding off every attack.

‘… your left hand is weak and clumsy. It is obviously not your swordhand. So why fight with it and risk being killed by me?’

Jaimes eyes narrowed. He ducked to the right, escaping what his opponent had intended to be a final blow and attacked again, this time putting all his strength in his hand. He managed to make the foreigner retreat again, even though the man didn’t have a hard time catching his blows.

‘You start to be really annoying, you know that? Never heard of a two sided swordsman? The same principle as when fist fighting. The man who can do both sides has the clear advantage.’ Jaime said.

‘But you obviously can’t do both.’ The other man grinned.

‘I can slit you open balls to throat with my left hand just fine. Care to see how?’ Jaime threatened.

The other man stepped back and lowered his sword. ‘No you can’t. You don’t stand a chance. And you know it. Go on, admit it.’

‘Fuck off!’

‘Admit it!’

The foreigner wasn’t playing anymore. He now attacked full force. His sword shone every time he drove it down on the Kingslayer, his cloak gushing in the cold wind that had blew harder now. It made his hood fall from his head and revealed snow white hair and cat-like yellow eyes. He now focused completely on Jaimes right side and tried to sink his sword in the others arm. Jaime had to retreat more and more.

‘You are loosing, pretty boy.’ the opponent stated, breathing hard.

Furious Jaime tried to win the upper hand again, but no chance. This man was better, so so much better than him. He had never seen this fighting style before. He was so busy parading the attacks that he didn’t pay attention enough where he was going and stumbled. He fell on his back and saw a glinting piece of steel slashing down on him.

Jaime pressed his eyes closed, awaited the stinging pain to hit him. But it didn’t.

After a few moments he blinked. The white haired man stood over him, his shoulder long hair blowing in the wind, his accelerated breath creating white smoke that faded from his open mouth. The sword he held with both his hands towered over Jaimes chest and only failed its destination due to Jaimes right hand which must have shot up and caught the sword. Jaime didn’t remember doing so.

Both men looked at the Kingslayers right hand. The cat eyes of the foreigner glinted triumphantly. He retreated and put his sword back in the hilt on his back. Then, too quickly for Jaime to prevent him from doing so, he grabbed his right glove and pulled it off.

The golden hand appeared and caught some snow flakes falling on it.

‘Look at that, even gold. Aren’t you a wealthy lad.’ the other man smiled.

‘Congratulations. You proved a cripple wrong. Feeling better now?’ Jaime asked, every word filled with spite at the humiliation that ran over him. This would have never happened when he still had his right hand. Never. Disarmed by some weird cat-eyed cutthroat on the road.

He got up. ‘Now, what will you be doing with this astonishing revelation you just made? Kill me and steal the hand?’

The other man was just about to answer when he suddenly stiffened and turned around, his eyes scouting along the woods behind him.

‘What is it?’ Jaime asked.

‘Someone is coming. Horses, half a dozen by the sound of it. Fast. Heavy armored riders.’ the other man said, listening hard.

A cold thrill shot down the Kingslayers spine. The Kingsguard. They had found him. He listened paralyzed for a sound, expected white horses to appear any second, but nothing happened.

‘I don’t hear or see anything.’, Jaime stated.

‘Of course not. My senses are sharp, more sensitive than normal humans’.’   
Jaime had no idea what that meant. The stranger turned around and looked in Jaimes alarmed face. “Is someone looking for you, pretty boy?’

‘Possibly.’ Jaime tried to evade the question.

‘Possibly? So we can expect trouble now?’

‘Well, as I have told you numerous times by now, just get on your old nag and leave. This doesn’t concern you.’ the Queens brother grumbled as his ears finally caught a sound. Faint thunder which grew louder by the second. Jaime readied himself, sword in front of him.

The foreigner looked him up and down with raised eyebrows. ‘You are not serious? You don’t stand a chance.’

They appeared from the trees. White horses moving like ghosts in through the falling snow, their white thin legs bursting through the dancing grass. They must have spotted him even before they appeared since they aimed at him right away, circling him and the other man, making it impossible to escape. Jaime glanced to the left. His horse as well as the foreigners were too far away to reach.

Six horse heads were facing towards the Queens brother and the other man now. Jaime noticed that the only Kingsguard member in this group was Preston Greenfield. The faces of the others were familiar to him too, although he didn’t know their names. Good soldiers, young lads still, that he had helped training to become good warriors in Cerseis army for the war.

‘Jaime Lannister.’ Preston Greenfields voice echoed loud across the meadow. ‘You are charged with treason in the highest degree by the crown. In the name of Queen Cersei Lannister, first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Lady to the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, you are sentenced to die.’

Death. Not even prisoner. So she was serious. He still couldn’t believe it.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ the foreigner asked darkly.

Ser Preston Greenfield looked at him now. ‘You were seen sparring with the Kingslayer, therefore we take it you took part in him fleeing the capitol and helping him get North. Helping with treason is committing treason. Ser, we sentence you to die together with the-‘ he would never finish his sentence. 

A little dagger had appeared out of nowhere on the foreigners palm and he had thrown it quicker as lighting. It sank its steel in the Kingsguards throat mid sentence. The man rattled and coughed, desperately trying to draw breath. Then, only a second later, he slid off his horse, eyes big and dead mirroring the clouds in the sky as his body almost completely vanished in the high grass.

The other five drew their swords immediately, but before they could maneuver their horses to approach, the foreigner had thrown another dagger, which this time landed in another soldiers eye. Not waiting to see that one fall off his horse as well, the stranger drew one of his big blades again, his sharp yellow eyes assessing his remaining four opponents.

Everyone was so focused on the man who just killed two of them, that the four remaining soldiers now attacked the killer instead of the man they were actually here for.

Jaime used this moment for his advantage. As the nearest soldier rode past, he grabbed his long brown cloak and pulled him off his galloping horse. The warrior fell, and before he could get back on his feet, the Kingslayer had already sunken his sword into his throat.

Three down. Three to go.

He could quickly glimpse at the stranger fighting with the remaining three, ducking under their blows before one of the riders looked over to Jaime to find his fellow soldier dead on the ground. With an angry outcry he urged his horse to leave the current fighting and gallop towards the Queens brother.

Jaimes heart beat loudly in his ears as the horse approached, snorting loudly, its long white mane flowing like silk. In the last moment before the soldier’s sword could touch him, Jaime ducked away to the left and let his sword cut through the horse’s right front leg. He heard a loud painful shriek as the horse flew a few feet before it landed on its side, burying its rider underneath. The moaning man wasn’t dead yet and tried desperately to pull himself out from the heavy beast, but the Kingslayer’s sword was upon him within seconds.

Breathing heavily, Jaime turned around to see the other man had unseated a rider and had him in a tight headlock before he broke his neck with one swift movement. 

Now there was only one last soldier standing. The man looked uncertain and scared as the truth of the situation seemed to sink in. He was outnumbered. However, he was on a horse, his opponents weren’t. He could just take off. Save his life. For a fleeting moment Jaime thought he would do it. But then, he dropped the reins of his horse and jumped down, thick armored legs landing on the grass with ease. Jaime felt sad. For some reason, he knew who would win.

The soldier approached the foreigner with his long sword, wielding it through the cold winter air. The foreigner blocked all of his blows with apparently no real effort, but kept stepping back, so that the attacker came at him faster and stronger with every blow since it gave him a false sense of dominating the fight. 

Jaime frowned. The foreigner was playing him. A few times he tried to cut through the attacks, waiting for the soldier to make a too hasty move, so that he could break through and get to his throat. But the soldier was no fool and didn’t fall for it. 

Finally, when he realized he didn’t get anywhere with this tactic, the foreigner changed his strategy and instead of blocking and holding against the blows, he swirled to the side, one leg kept in place so that the attacker would stumble over it, which to Jaimes surprise really happened. The soldier stumbled, however caught his balance right away. It took him only a split second. And this second was all the foreigner had needed. He had danced behind him and with one single dashing blow cut through the neck. It took a second before the head rolled off its owner, landing on the ground, rolling a few feet, grass rustling.

Jaime watched the foreigner to look at his doing with a shockingly indifferent expression on his face, before he put his sword back in his hilt and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Then his eyes searched for the Kingslayer and approached him.

Jaime had never seen anyone fight like this. This couldn’t be normal, this couldn’t be human. He had just killed four members of the Queens best soldiers singlehandedly. Singlehandedly. Not even a scratch on his part. Who was this guy?

‘Seems like I underestimated you. You took two down.’ the survivor said in a conversational tone, as if they would be talking about the weather.

‘Who are you?’ Jaime asked in disbelief.

He only now noticed that the man indeed had a scratch. A long deep cut that gashed on the right side of his face, interrupted only by his eye. It was an old wound, but still prominent and deep, not yet fully scarred.

“Geralt of Rivia. ‘ the man answered.

‘Rivia?’ Jaime asked, trying to locate this place in Westeros.

‘I’m not from here.’

Jaimes eyes fell on a medallion around the man’s neck that must have surfaced during the fight from his armor. A dark-silver wolfs head was staring at him with dead black eyes.

‘You serve the Starks.’ Jaime concluded.

‘Who?’ the man named Geralt asked, following Jaimes stare. ‘Oh no, that is the symbol of my witcher school.’

‘Witcher school?’

‘Yeah, you don’t have them here. This land seems astoundingly non-magical as far as I can see... No monsters. No ghosts. A witcher would starve here.’

‘So why are you here?’

‘I’m looking for someone. But the more important question is, what are you doing here? Running, as it seems?’ Geralt asked, curiosity in his cat eyes.

Jaime shrugged, spreading his arms widely in front of him, like he invited the other man for a hug. ‘Well, hard to deny this now. You could turn me in, you know. As you just heard, the Queen wants me dead, I’m sure there should be a considerable amount of gold waiting for you as a reward. But then again…’ Jaimes eyes wandered over the slain men, lying lifelessly spattered across the meadow.

‘You just slaughtered her men, one Kingsguard even. Queensguard it should be called now anyways. So, you see, I’m not sure if you would not more likely end up with your head on a spike, just next to mine, decorating the city walls.’

‘Or I just tell her you slaughtered all her men and I caught you just when you had finished them.’ Geralt suggested, smiling an evil smile.

Jaime looked at the other man amused, and held up his golden hand. ‘And you think she would believe that? Maybe I should tell you, I’m her brother, twin brother at that. She knows how pathetic I am with a sword nowadays.’

‘Is that so? And why would your twin sister want you dead? I heard one of the soldiers call you Kingslayer. You killed her husband?’

‘No, no. She took care of that herself. Let’s just say I finally wanted to keep a promise I made. But for some reason, promises come back and haunt me, whether I break them or keep them.’

‘So, which king did you slay?’

‘The former… well, no, by now, the… third from the current Queen… it gets rather confusing. And names acquired by breaking an oath are apparently hard to lose.’

Geralt looked Jaime up and down, searching in his face for whatever he was looking for. Jaime had the impression he had wanted to figure him out quickly as to decide what best to do with him, but the answers he had just given him seemed to make it harder for him to decide rather than easier.

‘You are an interesting man, Jaime Lannister.’ he finally said, remembering his name.

‘And you are a mysterious and terrifying man, Geralt of Rivia.’ Jaime gave back, his arrogant smile appearing back on his face.

A moment of silence. Then: ‘So what are you planning on doing now?’ Geralt asked slowly.

‘Well, that depends. If you let me go, I will head North to keep my promise and join the dragon girl and the bastard boy in their fight against the White Walkers, and also let them know about the Queens true intentions.   
If you kill me on the other hand, of course, this question is pointless and I would rather you tell me right away.’

Geralt seemed to think hard, glancing at the massacre again they just had created. ‘You know these lands we are in?’

‘Yes.’

‘How well?’

‘As well as the back of my hand. Left hand.’

‘Hmh. We should leave this place as quick as possible before someone sees this.’ Geralt said, nodding at the corpses.

‘I will bury them.’ the Kingslayer said.

‘What?’

‘I will bury them. I know these men. They were good men. They deserve to find peace.’

‘You will dig up the ground with one hand?’

Jaime shot him an angry glance. ‘If I must, yes. As you just said yourself, you underestimated me. I’m not completely incapable of life.’

Geralt groaned annoyed, but then said: ‘I will help you.’

‘You will?’ Jaime asked, suspicious.

‘Yes. You need a fighter at your side to survive. I need a guide in these strange lands to move quicker. And it seems both of us are headed North. So seems like a good deal.’

‘A win-win situation indeed. If only I could trust you.’ Jaime mused.

‘I cannot make you trust me of course. I don’t necessarily trust you either. So, that’s that. It’s your decision. Make it before we finish burying your fellow soldiers.’ Geralt said, and with that was raising his right hand away from his body. The hand became stiff, palm facing away from the witcher as if he tried to hold down an invisible wall. Then there was a faint glow and a sort of shock wave seemed to escape his palm, which shook the ground he was aiming at and created a little whole.

‘What in the name of the seven was that?’ Jaime asked, stunned.

‘Aard. Long story. I will tell you more when we ride together.’

‘I don’t know how you think actions like that would make me ride with you.’ Jaime blurted, arms crossing in front of him.

Geralt smiled.


	3. The Wench and the Merchant

‘My lady, should we soon look for a place to rest for the night?’

‘A bit further still, Podrick.’

‘As you wish, my lady.’

Brienne had decided a while back, that there was no point in correcting her squire again and again that, no, she was no lady. Had never been. Would never be. 

But Podrick Payne could be incredibly resilient when it came to certain things. Like always wanting to be the one who prepared the meals when they were on the road. Always insisting to keep getting sword training by her, even though he was incredibly talentless. And always calling her his lady. It was almost funny, really. For the longest time, she had wanted to be seen as a woman, but was mocked for looking like a man. Then, as she took on the role and started living her life as a man, there he was, Podrick Payne, telling her everyday, that she was a lady. Life could be so ironic.

They had been on the road for four days now and Brienne expected them to be back in Winterfell within another week, if they could keep up the pace. And Brienne really wanted to. They were already gone too long and she had an uneasy feeling in her stomach whenever she thought of the Stark sisters and in what disarray they had left them behind.

She just couldn’t shake the thought that she was supposed to be there, to help sort things out. To protect Sansa as well as Arya from this malicious snake who had been passing through Winterfell like a shadow, hissing and whispering in weak ears. Plotting. Planning. Twisting words into more twisted words, creating lies and constructing new realities to disperse close bonds, separating friendships, seeding only doubts and mistrust so that nothing good could ever grow where he walked. 

Brienne hated Littlefinger. With a passion. He represented everything she had been fighting all her life. And everything she feared. She had always preferred to have enemies in plain sight. Facing her with a swinging sword. Those she could handle, fight and win. But the enemy that wouldn’t show his face was another thing entirely, the enemy you didn’t even know existed. Who would conspire in the shadows around you, ever so slightly glint at you from the darkness, only to be gone the moment you try to really focus your eyes on him and then try to convince yourself it is all only in your head.

‘Good day to you, Ser. Where are you heading so late in the day?’ she suddenly heard Podrick ask and looked around.

A lone rider was passing them with a horse as black as the long Winternights of the North. It’s big nostrils flaring, it tripled past them, long curly tail swinging from left to right, its unusually long curly mane covering most of its long face and neck. Brienne had never seen a horse with such long thick curly hair. Even its pasterns were partially covered by them. As unusual as the horse was its rider. The man appeared to be lean and short, his pitch black hair hidden mostly underneath a hat which looked like it was made out of bandages slung around his head. He wore dark blue and brown gear, fine leather, but not the kind you would see through Westeros. Briennes eyes lingered on his dark caramel skin and wondered if it was a merchant from Volantis maybe.

The rider turned his head to Brienne and her squire and she could see that a dark blue scarf was covering half of his face. Only two black giant eyes were looking at her. His voice was muffled through the fine fabric as he answered Podricks question: ‘Heading east before the winter hits. Where abouts are you headed?’

Briennes brows furrowed. She couldn’t be sure through the scarf, but his accent was strange.

Podrick seemed to pay these prominences no mind and answered almost cheerfully: ‘We are riding North, to Winterfell. Right into the cold winter you try to avoid.’

The merchant (if that was what he was) nodded. ‘I wish you a good journey.’

‘And to you. Seek shelter soon, twilight is approaching fast up here.’

The stranger signaled his horse to ride faster and galloped along the road ahead until he could not be seen anymore.

Brienne turned to Podrick, a scolding expression on her face. The squire raised his eyebrows and asked defensively: ‘What?’

‘You had no idea who this man was. Obviously a foreigner, not from Westeros. For all we know he could be a sellsword hired by god knows who to kill us!’

‘That is why I held conversation with him, to find out his intentions.’

‘As if he would just tell you. Don’t be so… nice all the time to people we don’t know.’ Brienne closed the argument.

‘Apologies my lady, I didn’t mean to get us into trouble.’

‘Well, you haven’t. Not this time in any case. Just… be more… not nice. Leave the talking to me if you can’t.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

Brienne was being a bit overcautious, she knew it. However, she just couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed by danger ever since they had been leaving Kings Landing. The summit in the Dragonpit had been an up and down of emotions, in many ways. 

First it looked like the wight had convinced the Queen all too quickly of the nearing threat in the North. Then Jon Snow, the honest fool, had for a moment shattered this almost touchable alliance. But the Queens little brother, Tyrion, had saved them from this catastrophe. Just. But he had looked grim as they had returned to the Dragonpit, not at all relieved or victorious that he just had convinced the Queen to stand by them in this war.

Also Jaime had looked the most troubled she had ever seen him. And this was no easy feat. Brienne had seen him loose his hand, watch his entire world fall apart, wanting to die because of it. 

The Jaime she had seen now was wearing his golden hand almost comfortably already. Whole. In his world, at his place next to his sister, helping her rule and advice and… Brienne refused to think what else. 

She was long past feeling repulsed by this unspeakable behaviour, was used to this truth. It was what Jaime wanted, why would always be a mystery to her. But it was not important for her to understand. It was not her life after all. It was his. And he was where he had always wanted to be. With his sister. His lover.

So Brienne had expected Jaime to look well and put together. Troubled of course, the country was at war, he was fighting a lot of enemies to every side in the kingdom. 

But as she saw him entering the Pit, glancing at her as he passed her, she immediately knew that something was not right. And it had sent a quick sting through her heart. 

Because this had been what had kept her convinced that everything was right. Jaime was where he belonged. Where he wanted to be. That was what she had told herself so many times, more than she was prepared to admit. And in this moment, his emerald eyes brushing over her face as he passed, this illusion got destroyed. Things were off. Very off.

Not that it mattered, in the end it was his life, his fight. And Brienne hoped with all her heart he would find peace again. Within. As much as she hoped for peace in the outside world as well.

How realistic that was she didn’t know. At the summit she too saw one of the undead for the first time and the hairs on her neck would still stand up in horror whenever she thought back to it.

This experience strengthened her belief that this was truly the only war that mattered. She finally understood Jon Snow and his never ending speeches about the only true enemy and that no other quarrels between houses mattered anymore. He was right. Had always been right. And Brienne was more than prepared to give her sword and strength for fighting the dead. To stop the Knight King and save all of Westeros and every breathing being it held. If they could.

A high pitched scream cut through the evening and made their horses turn their ears forward to listen anxiously.

‘Where did that come from?’ Pod asked.

As Brienne scanned her eyes over their surroundings to find out where the scream had been coming from, a black horse galloped past them, long thick curly hair blowing past.

‘It’s the merchant.’ Brienne said and spurred her horse to gallop into the direction the horse had come running from.

Podrick followed.

They didn’t have to ride far. Only a few minutes later they heard more screaming, this time accompanied by growling and howling. Wolves. So far South?

Brienne commanded her horse to halt and jumped off. Drawing her sword she silently started off into the woods, following the noises. ‘Stay with the horses so we don’t lose them.’ she called to Podrick before she disappeared between the dark trees.

Anxiously she tried to breathe flat and move as noiselessly as possible as to not draw the wolve’s attention to herself just yet. The noises grew louder as she peeked around a big tree-trunk and saw the spectacle. The merchant was pressed against a thick tree, his lean hands clinging to a long wooden stick, trying to keep five wolves at a distance.

Just as the beasts were drawing in on her, Brienne charged forward with a loud scream. Immediately the animals whirled around and darted away to assess the new situation. Brienne was now standing in front of the foreigner, sword glinting dangerously towards the beasts.

‘Stay behind me.’ the maiden said calmly as the wolves hair on their back rose once again as they approached their new prey, teeth bared. Five she could take, Brienne thought as she steadied her stand, ready for any attack the wolves might start.

And they did. Two wolves sped towards her simultaneously from two different directions, wild eyes fixed on the she-warrior. Brienne quickly stepped back and leaned away to evade the quicker attacker, then whirled around to sink her blade into the second one. The wolf however ducked his head so that Oathkeeper merely slid along its hairy forehead, leaving a deep long gash. The beast howled in pain, crashed aimlessly into Briennes armored chest and retreated instantly. 

The maiden wanted to turn around to see where the first attacking wolf had gone, but in that moment this very wolf had jumped at her from behind in full speed, which swept Brienne off her feet and her tall body crashed to the forest ground. She tried to push her palms against the ground to get up again, but the wolf was standing on her back, trying not to loose balance due to Briennes cloak which was sliding left and right underneath its paws due to the armor beneath.

Just as the maid tried to roll around to shake the beast off her, a high scream escaped her mouth as the wolf found balance by sinking his front paws into her exposed neck and the beginnings of her shoulder which were not protected by her armor yet.

She could feel the hot breath of the beast on the back of her head as its head leaned down towards her, wide mouth opening, halting Briennes neck in place with his long claws.

A threatening snarl turned into a howl as the merchant had hit the wolf with his thick stick in the soft side of its belly. The beast jumped off Brienne, who immediately stumbled on her feet, sword glistening in front of her.

The maidens yellow-white hair was falling in her now dirty face as she tried to make out the next wolf which would attack.

But the animals didn’t move closer again. They kept standing right where they were, still circling the two of them. Brienne could make out some more gnarling and movements in the bushes around them. How many more wolves were there? She grew worried.

And then she saw it. The biggest wolf she ever saw appeared behind a tree, approaching slowly. No rising hair, no baring teeth. Only a curious look on its intelligent face. Briennes breath stopped. The beast was almost as tall as herself. 

She didn’t dare moving an inch as the beast was now so near, she could smell its warm thick breath in her face. The wolf looked her over, sniffing at her thick winter cloak, touching the fur with its wet nose.

Then, having decided, the wolf turned without another glance and trotted away, its pack following.

Only a few moments later, they were alone. Briennes eyes kept scanning their surroundings, turning on the spot several times, waiting for the alpha to jump at them from behind, but nothing happened. It grew silent. Only the merchants and her own quick breathing filled the evening air. Brienne could feel warm blood running down her shoulders and back where the wolf had left its marks. She tried to ignore the pain.

‘Wha-What was that?’ she heard a shaky voice behind her. Brienne turned towards the merchant. He was still clutching the stick. Part of his deep blue trousers were ripped and the scarf that had covered half his face was hanging loosely down his upper body.

Brienne frowned as she saw the full face of the person opposite her, two huge beautiful pitch black eyes staring at her, cheeks flushed with fear, full lips parted.

‘You are a woman.’ she stated matter of factly.

As if slapped in the face, the merchant awoke from the paralysis, and quickly adjusted the scarf back on. ‘Don’t bother.’ Brienne said, ‘I know what it looks like when a woman tries to appear a man.’

‘I… I am…. I mean, I never meant to…’ she stammered, her voice immediately much higher and clearer than when she had tried to sound masculine. ‘Thank you. For protecting me from these… things.’ she finally finished.

Brienne shook her head. ‘Don’t thank me, thank the direwolf. They didn’t attack because the it told them not to.’

‘Told them?’

‘Well, whatever you wish to call it. Come.’ Brienne gestured for the woman to follow her. ‘Let’s leave this place before they change their mind.’

As the two women appeared back from the dark forest, the light was mostly gone. The last rays of sunset kissed the grass, slowly swaying in the wind. The road appeared golden in the distance, but was almost black where Brienne and the merchant woman were now walking. The maid looked around, frowning.

Just as she wanted to let out an annoyed sigh what Podrick was dojng now, she heard a neighing and a black silhouette came riding towards them, guiding two horses behind.

Brienne smiled, pleasantly surprised as Podrick halted in front of them and got down from his horse.

‘I got the merchants horse. I heard it not far and thought we might have to make for a quick escape, so-‘ Podrick said, but stopped mid sentence as his gaze fell on the foreigner. His eyes grew big as the truth sank in.

‘Is… this is the…? He is…?’

‘Yes Podrick, a woman.’ Brienne said, taking the reins of the two horses out of Podricks hand and turned to her.

Under Briennes intense glare the woman seemed to grow smaller and more nervous with the second. She broke the eye contact, looking around her, tightening her scarf, adjusting her blouse and leather jacket.

‘What’s your name?’ the she-warrior finally asked.

‘Greta.’

‘What are you doing here, Greta?’

‘I’m… travelling to the East… to take a ship to Essos.’

‘Why would you do that?’

‘That’s where I’m from.’

‘No, you’re not.’

‘I am a merchant, I sell spices and rare silks to-‘

‘You don’t have any goods with you. Your horse is as bare as can be.’ Brienne broke mercilessly into her sentence, glancing over her horse, searching with her hands along the saddle for anything which would give her a clue about this woman’s intentions.

‘You don’t even have provisions with you. Nothing to spent the night in the wild. No weapon, no-‘ she stopped. Her hands had found something. In one of the saddle pockets something lean and hard was sticking out. The maid opened the pocket quickly and pulled out a wooden, shining instrument with long, white strings. ‘A fiddle?’ she asked in disbelief.

‘It’s a violin.’ The woman named Greta said harshly, finally meeting Briennes eyes again.

Brienne raised her eyebrows, waiting for a further explanation, but none would come.

Only pitch black eyes embedded in a meadow of long dark lashes looking straight at ocean blue sapphires.

The maid handed the violin to Podrick and let her hand sink into the saddle pocket again. This time, her hand surfaced with some glistening stones. Brienne held them up to look at them properly. They appeared to be a dark purple, hard to say with nothing but the weak evening light. The stones were cut with sharp edges, catching the last sunlight in its midst.

‘Diamonds?’ she asked skeptically.

‘Something like that, yes.’ Greta responded.

‘The things I find create more questions than answers.’ Brienne concluded, looking expectantly at the other woman, but she wouldn’t say anything more to clarify Briennes findings.

The maid sighed. ‘Your name is Greta, or so you say at least. You travel cloaked as a man with nothing on you but this… violin and some big diamonds and try to get somewhere. You bear no sigils, I don’t recognize your looks, the clothes you are wearing or your accent. I can’t even place your horse’s breed. So clearly you are not from here. But, given you are in a rather fresh and clean state, you can’t have been on the road for too long yet. So how can that be, given you come from somewhere so foreign? Did you break out somewhere? Are you a highborn on the run?’

‘She is shaking, my lady.’ Podrick suddenly said.

The maid saw, what he meant. Even in the growing darkness of the evening, it was apparent that Gretas face had turned paler and paler with every deduction Brienne had spoken and every question she had asked. Her lips were turning a strange shade and her hands were pressed against her belly.

Brienne was immediately alarmed. ‘Are you in pain? Have the wolves hurt you? Let me see.’ she said, leaning down on her, trying to get her hand away so she could look for a wound or blood or whatever there was.

‘No. No, please!’ Greta said, panic rising in her voice, her hands trying desperately to push Brienne away. But this young woman was not strong and it was easy for Brienne to push her hands away, as well as the big scarf. She couldn’t see any blood, the clothes seemed not to be ripped anywhere. 

Brienne took the leather jacket and slid it off the stranger. Greta tried to resist, but knew that she was no match for the big woman with the heavy armor.

As the leather jacket was off, she shoved it into Podricks arms, kneeled down to finally see properly and stopped short, mid kneeling. Her big blue eyes narrowed as she took in the suspicious bulge that was now clearly seeable.

‘You are pregnant.’ Brienne whispered.

The story surrounding this girl became wilder with every second.

Greta didn’t resist anymore. As if someone had sucked the life out of her, her head bowed down and she clutched her arms protectively around her belly.

Brienne didn’t know what to do with this situation. There was a scared girl, alone with nothing but a horse and a growing baby inside of her. Whatever her story was, it must be a desperate one. As the night settled around them, Brienne made a choice and as she glanced to Podrick, he nodded as if he was agreeing to her thoughts. Brienne straightened up again, looking down on the stranger.

‘When was the last time you have eaten?’

‘A while ago.’ Greta responded defensively.

‘It’s getting nighttime. Not a good time to be out on the open road. Especially not alone. Especially not pregnant. We will look for a place to spend the night and keep riding first light. Podrick, my squire, will cook some rabbit. Would you like to join us?’

Gretas face shot up, looking at Brienne is wonder. ‘You.. won’t kill me?’

‘Why would I do that?’ Brienne asked, shocked.

‘I… don’t know. Because I lied to you. And you don’t know me.’

‘That is alright for now. You are pregnant, starving and probably tired. You don’t carry any weapons and, no offense, but I highly doubt you could present a real threat to us. So, there is no reason not to offer kindness…’

Brienne held out a hand which Great took, for the first time smiling weakly, suspicion leaving her hardened face a little bit.

‘My name is Brienne.’ Brienne introduced herself.

‘Thank you, lady Brienne.’

‘Brienne is enough. I’m no lady.’

Podricks lips twitched.


	4. Collateral Worlds

Cold fresh water was trickling down the dark stubbles the Queens brothers face had grown in the last days since he was on the road. Jaime dived his left hand again into the clean water stream and splashed water into his face, rubbing it clean of dirt and blood from the fight with Cersei’s men.

He blinked away the water drops that had caught in his eyelashes and enjoyed how the bitter cold of the liquid cleared his head. Jaime continued to take an old cloth and cleaned the leather around his arms, dived in his gloves whole since they were the dirtiest.

It had stopped snowing and the sun had come out again, though Jaime suspected that this would be short lived. Still, it was nice to feel the sun on his face, giving him some slight warmth in these cold temperatures.

It had not been easy burying all these men. It took them quite a while to find good hidden spots that would not immediately give away to passing travelers that people were buried there. Jaime didn’t want their graves to be plundered. His new comrade and himself had rid them from all valuable belongings already anyways. Not that they had a lot.  
Only Ser Greenfield Jaime insisted was not to be touched. He had put his sword hilt into the knight’s cold hands, blade facing down. His helmet resting above his head so that his face was exposed. That was how Jaime would have wanted to be buried, would he have to die like this. 

Not that he had been particularly fond of Ser Greenfield. But he had been a fellow knight, a sworn brother of the Kingsguard and therefore also his brother. Honor obliged him to pay him this last respect. And he gladly paid the debt.

Geralt’s strange magic tricks certainly helped creating the holes. He had placed his palm towards the ground several times and made the ground shake and erupt until they had craters deep enough to put the corpses in. It had been strange, burying these men. Jaime had felt unbelievably sad and only the presence of another man had kept him from shedding tears.

He wasn’t known for being a crybaby. However in some weird way it felt like burying these men he had known was like burying the old Jaime. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. The Kingslayer. The Sister lover. Buried. Gone from this world.

He heard his companion approach and turned his head to see the tall man walking towards him, his snow white hair almost glowing as it caught the sunlight shining through the tree branches. He was carrying something big on his left shoulder.

‘You need help, pretty boy?’ the witcher asked, pointing at Jaimes right hand stump.

‘I don’t need a wet nurse.’ Jaime responded coldly. 

Geralt chuckled. ‘Just wanted to help.’ he said and swung what Jaime now could recognize was a deer from his broad shoulder to the grassy ground between them.

The Queens brother’s eyes wandered up to the other man, a doubtful look on his face. ‘A deer?’

‘Yep. Too easy to catch them here, really.’

‘That’s a lot of meat.’

‘We can keep it for a while. I know how.’ Geralt shrugged.

Jaime nodded and then shrugged too. He wrought out his soaked gloves next to the little water stream as his green eyes searched for what had killed the animal. 

‘How did you kill it?’ he asked as he couldn’t find any arrow wound.

‘Oh, broke its neck. Quick and painless.’ Geralt said, kneeling down next to the deer and positioned it for disemboweling.

‘Broke its neck? How did you get close enough to do that?’ Jaime asked disbelievingly.

‘I have my ways to entice animals.’ Geralt said.

Jaime rolled his eyes at that. 

‘And what are your ways, exactly? You are a sorcerer of some kind?’ Jaime pressed.

‘No. I’m a witcher, I told you. I hunt monsters from where I’m from. This requires special skills no normal human possesses. If you don’t have them, you cannot kill them.’

‘Would it kill you not to be so vague for once?’ the Kingslayer remarked annoyed.

Geralt had gotten out a thin knife and started to skin the animal in front of him. He looked up. ‘I tell you what. I tell you more about me when you tell me more about you and how you lost your hand.’

Jaime snorted. ‘I’m afraid my stories are rather boring. A song a thousand others sing as well.’

‘Then it should be easy for you to agree to my suggestion.’

‘As you wish.’ Jaime said, not feeling as comfortable with it as he tried to make it seem.

‘Very well. So ask away.’ Geralt answered, eyes fixated on the deer again.

‘What are your powers that differ you from normal men?’

‘Well… I’m much stronger for one. Have more endurance. My pain tolerance levels are much higher and it takes a lot more to injure me fatally. I can see in the darkness. I can move noiselessly and quicker than any cat. My body tolerates toxicity levels every other man would die of instantly.’

‘What about your magic powers?’ Jaime interrupted.

‘Well, they are called signs. I cannot do too much though. What you saw me do with upsetting the ground is called Aard. It is a telekinetic pressure wave, it helps me normally in fights. Then there is Yrden, a magical trap I can place in the ground to trigger foes. And I can…’ Geralt placed his knife away, opened his palm to the sky and let a little flame appear in it. ‘… ignite fire.’

Jaimes eyes looked at the dancing flames in the witcher’s palm, dancing there as it was the most normal thing in the world. With a simple curling of his fingers, the fire vanished as fast as it had appeared.

‘Are you serving the Lord of Light?’ Jaime asked perplexed.

Geralt frowned. ‘No. Whoever that is. We are not serving anyone except the common people.’

‘And what did you do to the deer?’ Jaime pointed at the half skinned animal between them.

‘That one is called Axi. It is a mental wave, its effect like a hypnosis. It works on animals easier than on people, that requires training, but it’s doable.’

‘So you are saying you can make everyone do whatever you want them to?’

‘More or less. I can for at least a moment. It depends on the character strength of the person. And on my mental strength in that moment. If I get hurt or diverted, the hex lifts off.’ Geralt explained.

Jaime leaned back a little, scratching his golden hair. ‘So you could hex me right now? And I wouldn’t even know?’

Geralt grinned a mischievous smile. ‘Yes. But don’t worry, no reason for me to do that. We don’t acquire these powers to fuck around with them. I use them for making hunting easier, for calming my horse when it panics. To stun enemies and monsters, to get me out of a dangerous situation. I know it is hard to believe, but I’m actually not a completely bad guy.’ 

‘Not buying it.’ Jaime said, but a sly grin had now also appeared on his face. ‘You cannot tell me you never used this… Axi thing for something beneficial to you ever.’

Geralt was stroking his white beard now, his mischievous smile widening even more. ‘Well, maybe once or twice over a Gwint game.’

‘Gwint?’

‘Card game.’ 

‘Oh. I see… so, why are you here exactly? This is no land inhabited by any monsters.’

‘Yeah, I noticed. In fact…’ Geralt took the strange wolf symbol hanging around his neck in one of his gloved hands and studied it. ‘… I think I never seen a less magical place in all my life.’

‘So why coming here?’

‘I told you, I am looking for someone.’ Geralt said, releasing the wolf from his grasp.

‘Who?’

‘Someone who runs from me. I saved a man’s life, we agreed on a payment. Now I have to run after my payment since it appears people forget what they owe as fast as they die.’ Geralt said, narrowing his eyes, clearly remembering something which annoyed him.

‘Ah… well, you should have met me sooner. We Lannisters are known for always paying our depts.’

‘Now you tell me. We settled for paying each other by deeds rather than gold.’ Geralt said.

Jaime shrugged unimpressed. ‘Well, it seems you need a scout more than gold right now.’

‘True.’

‘So, how are you planning to find that man?’ Jaime continued, finding himself more curious than normal.

‘I left a mark on the debtor. My witcher symbol reacts to the mark. And it points me North.’ The man explained, pointing at the wolf necklace he just held.

‘I suppose, that is magic again.’ Jaime guessed.

‘Aye.’ Geralt nodded. He had skinned most of the deer by now, its short fur piling up next to its lifeless head. The witcher now started slicing off the raw meat fropm the animals skinless chest.

‘Let me help you.’ Jaime suddenly said and got up.

‘You?’ Geralt asked doubtfully.

Jaime walked over to where he placed his travel bag and got out a flat piece of wood. Two nails were sticking out of it, one at each end. As the Queens brother strode back to sit opposite his comrade once again, he said: ‘I might be missing a hand, but my brain is still working quite nicely most of the time.’

He held out his left hand for Geralt to place a piece of meat in it. After frowning at the outstretched hand, Geralt obeyed and placed a piece of raw flesh in his hand. The Kingslayer closed his fingers around it and set it on the flat piece of wood. Then he grabbed in a leather pocket of his jacket to get out a thick piece of cord.

The witcher followed these movements with his yellow eyes curiously.

Knotting one end of the cord to one of the nails, Jaime now stretched the cord over the meat and started to wrap it around the second nail before knotting it there too. So now the meat was strapped down underneath the stretched cord, holding it in place. Next Jaime got out a thin knife, not unlike Geralts, placed his right arm stump additionally on the raw flesh and started cutting it with his left hand into smaller pieces.

Geralt smiled impressed. ‘Not bad.’

‘Tools can replace a hand sometimes to some extend.’ Jaime responded, not looking up from his work.

‘So what is the story behind it?’ Geralt asked.

Jaime looked up.

‘My turn.’ Geralt grinned.

Jaime hesitated for a moment. ‘There is really not much to tell. There was a war a few years ago, a rebellion against the crown. During this war I got captured by our enemies. They cut off my hand.’

Geralt leaned back, studying the cross-legged man before him that cut meat with one hand.

‘You said you are the Queens brother. So you must have been a valuable hostage. Why mutilate such a good catch?’

‘I… overstepped my position, to quote them precisely.’

‘And now you abandoned your position.’ Geralt said.

‘Yes.’

‘Because?’

‘Because there is a war to be fought in the North. The King in the North and the Dragonqueen asked the Queen in the South for their allegiance in this fight. She agreed. While plotting to betray them behind their back. I got threatened with my life when I declared my position of intending to stick to the promises she had made to them. So I left.’

‘You fled, you mean. Your own sister would kill you because you reminded her of what is right. Curious. But then again, the ones who rule must do terrible things all the time to stay in power. Meaning this could have hardly been the first time she didn’t hold up to her word.’

‘No.’

‘So you stuck to her before, but not now. Why?’

‘You are asking a lot of questions.’

‘Well, you don’t give me a lot of answers.’

‘It is complicated.’

‘It sure is.’

‘This war is different. It is not armies fighting armies. There is an enemy coming far greater and deadlier than any living could present. Power and who holds it doesn’t matter anymore… if it ever mattered.’ Jaime added silently.

‘So… you are saying they are not human? What are they?’

‘Wights and White Walkers, led by the Night King. I’m not the right person to talk about them really. You should talk to Jon Snow about this. All I know is that I have seen one of them and it was the most terrifying thing I have ever seen. Piercing blue eyes, dead withered bodies, but still moving and killing all the same.’

‘Sounds more like my kind of work.’ the witcher mused, rather unimpressed by the description. ‘Maybe you are just dealing with Nightwraiths or Banshees.’

‘I have no idea what you are saying.’ Jaime looked confused.

‘They are specters. Monsters of some sort, ghost monsters. I have them a lot, especially Nightwraiths. A pain in the behind, but not too hard to kill if you know how.’

Jaime stopped working on the meat, looked up and considered the man opposite him for a moment, tilting his head to the side as he was thinking.

‘You know, before I saw this thing a few days ago, I thought all these things are nothing more than legends, spook stories to frighten children. Now I don’t know what’s true and what’s not anymore. Apparently our world is inhabited by monsters I never knew. And you are talking about other monsters I never knew. So maybe they are the same. I don’t know. In any case I begin to think it is not pure chance that you landed here. Maybe you could help.’

‘I told you I am not interested in politics.’

‘I didn’t say anything about politics. This is about the dead and the living. And you have a lot of experience fighting weird creatures as it looks like.’

‘This is not what I’m here for. I’m after my payment, remember?’

‘I could pay you. For helping us in this war.’

‘You could? How?’

‘I am a Lannister. We always pay our depts.’

‘Yeah, you said that before. But at the same time, you are a nobleman on the run. And after what you just told me your family won’t help you out with anything more than a blade up your arse.’

‘Only one person wants me dead. And from what it looks like, a lot of people will be dead soon. And the survivors will throw the dices of power and money anew. You could be among them.’

Geralt frowned as he let Jaimes words play through his head. 

‘Ok, let’s take it step by step.’ Jaime continued. ‘We go and find your debtor. When you have him, you will accompany me and make sure I arrive safely at Winterfell.’

‘And why would I do that?’

‘Because I pay you. I have enough money with me for that.’

Geralts eyes narrowed. ‘I could just rob you and have all the money without even twitching a finger.’

‘You could. But then you will have a hard time finding Winterfell, the place to be for the upcoming war. And I’m a bit concerned what they will say if I tell them that you are nothing more than a greedy cutthroat who cannot be trusted. Might make it difficult for you to get in on a deal.’ Jaime said conversationally, letting his words do the work.

‘You know, I have a hard time liking you.’ Geralt finally said.

‘That, my friend, you will have in common with a lot of people at Winterfell.’ Jaime chuckled humorlessly.

They kept working on the deer for a while longer in comfortable silence as Jaime noticed the light of the day fade unusually quick and he looked up to dark grey clouds moving it, locking out the friendliness of the sun.

‘We should seeks shelter, this will be a downpour.’ Geralt said, following the Kingslayers glance.

Jaime nodded as he collected all the meat pieces from a pile he had made.

Geralt jumped up, reached down to grab the dead deer and lifted it up as it were a feather. As he turned around, he hesitated, before looking over his shoulder to Jaime. ‘I guess still no assistance needed on your part?’ 

Jaime looked up at him, eyes challenging. ‘No.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter Jaime and Brienne finally meet :).


	5. A Truce

Brienne was eyeing their new acquaintance from the side as the three of them were riding along a trampled path in the middle of a forest. She wasn’t sure where exactly they were by now, but she guessed about half way between Kings Landing and Winterfell. 

They had spent the first part of the journey travelling the Kingsroad since it was after all the quickest way back to the North and they had no reason not to be out in the open. But since Greta had joined them, Brienne had the feeling they should stay away from the official route a bit more since whatever the girl was running from, she clearly didn’t want to be found.

For two days now Greta was with them, silently riding beside the maid and her squire. Her face mostly tense and concentrated, jumping at every sound the wild made. Every time Brienne caught her glancing over her back, she quickly gathered her posture again and tried to make a straight face.

Since she didn’t have to hide her gender anymore, Greta had abandoned the weird bandage hat and her black curls were flowing freely down her slender back. She still kept on her scarf to hide her belly. Briennes eyes glided down to the little bulge, swaying with in sync with the steps of her horse. The belly wasn’t big yet and easy for her to hide. Brienne didn’t know a lot about pregnancies, just that they could kill the mother eventually. She shook her head, determined to get rid of that train of thought.

A few raindrops fell on the maidens face and made her eyes surveying the sky above, twinkling through the tree branches. Dark clouds were moving in, making the forest appear immediately more mysterious and frightening.

A nestling further away to Gretas side made her entire body tense again, but she kept her head facing forward. Probably the wolves, Brienne thought. They had not appeared again after the first incident two days ago, but they kept around. Brienne wasn’t sure if they were following them or if they simply had not left their hunting territory yet. It was still unclear to her what had happened when the massive direwolf had sniffed her and then retreated back with its pack, but Brienne couldn’t shake the feeling it had something to do with the Stark colours and clothes on her. She knew that the Stark children had direwolfs when they were younger, though many of them got killed and during her time in Winterfell, she had only seen Jon Snows white direwolf Ghost. She remembered Sansa mentioning at some point that her wolf got killed by Cersei Lannister years ago.

Maybe this direwolf knew the Stark family as well and recognized that Brienne belonged to them. She wouldn’t normally award an animal with that much intelligence, but the way that wolf had looked into her eyes and studied her had made her think that this beast was just as capable of thinking as men.

‘We should maybe seek shelter soon.’ Brienne stated, looking up at the dark grey clouds hanging low now and feeling the rain intensifying on her pale face. Greta was putting her long scarf over her head as a thin shield.

Podrick turned around to the women and said: ‘I will ride forth to seek appropriate shelter for us.’

Brienne nodded and the squire gave his horse the heel.

‘The road that leads East is only a days travel away. So if you are really planning to go to Essos, that will be your road.’ the maid suddenly said, eyeing Greta again carefully for her reaction. 

Greta glanced back at her. ‘You will continue North?’ she asked cautiously.

‘Yes.’

‘What will you do there?’

‘We are headed to Winterfell. The stronghold of the Starks, the family that I serve.’ Brienne paused for a second, thinking how to best fraise her next words.

‘There will be a gathering of half of Wetseros. A lot of houses will come together up there to… fight a joint enemy. It doesn’t look like this will be an easy fight. So, I would strongly suggest you will be on your way to the East and leave Westeros as quickly as possible. It would be the safest thing to do.’

‘Which house is the enemy?’ Greta asked.

‘Not a house… not… uh… men.’

‘Monster?’

‘Hm… I guess you could say that.’

‘Don’t you have witcher for this kind of thing?’ Greta asked doubtfully.

‘Witcher?’ Brienne frowned.

‘Yes. Witcher. Monster Hunters.’

‘…No. I never heard of that profession here.’

Greta now fully turned to the maiden, non-understanding in her eyes. ‘How is that possible? Since I arrived here, we didn’t cross even one monster. We have been in the middle of a forest for two days and nothing suggested any bears or leshy or even grottore. No drowners near water. No vampires at night. Only wolves. So someone must do the work?’

Brienne scratched her forehead in wonder. ‘Well, bears we do have in some places, but otherwise I never heard of any of the… creatures you just named. They are monsters?’ 

‘Yes. They are everywhere where I’m from. Some places are mostly save, some are really bad. We have witcher to fight and kill them. ‘

‘So these witcher must be heroes in your home.’

‘No.’ Greta immediately snapped. ‘They were created to kill monsters and for this turned into monsters themselves. They are stripped from every human emotion, they don’t know fear, pity or love. Only death. I’m not sure what the bigger nuisance is, the monsters or the monster hunters.’ She sounded so bitter and hateful that Brienne raised her eyebrows. For the first time she had gotten a true emotion from this woman.

‘Where is it you are from?’ Brienne tried cautiously.

‘It… it is called Ophir.’

‘My lady!’ Brienne heard Podrick call from afar. He appeared from the trees in the distance. ‘I have found a lonely old cottage. It is not much, but the roof is still intact. It should give us dry shelter.’

‘Very well, Podrick. Lead the way.’ Brienne said and signaled her horse to ride faster.

The rain came gushing down now, so that the riders were soaked within minutes. The maid guided her horse carefully as not to slip on the muddy forest floor. Her light blonde hair fell in her face and she kept pushing it impatiently to the sides.

Just as Brienne started to feel a bit uneasy to leave the path too far behind and the woods got so thick, it almost locked out all light from above, she saw through the gashes of rain a little shack appear, the foundation resting a bit too much on a thick large tree.

It even had an extended roof with a broken fence where they could leave their horses. Quickly they rode underneath the stable roof, got off their horses and bound their reins on the remaining fence.

They left them some food and water before opening the old wooden door and entered the shack. Podrick had been right, it was small and the wood was old and morbid, but the roof was still up and didn’t let any rain through.

Brienne held the door for the other two to enter. Podrick already had quickly gathered some branches from the ground in front of the wooden shelter to light a little fire inside. Brienne collected some more and only a few minutes later, a little fire was happily cackling in the middle of the shabby shack, throwing their dark shadows on the walls and ground behind them. 

Brienne got rid of her cloak, even heavier than normal for it was sucked full with rainwater. She laid it out next to the fire and ran her fingers through her yellow hair to get it properly out of her face again, even though a few strands just wouldn’t obey and continue to tickle her flushed cheeks.

While she then continued to untie her armor, she watched Greta wringing out her blue scarf in the corner, next to her violin and diamonds which rested leaned against the wall. The precious stones caught the burning red and yellow as if it was burning inside of the stones themselves.

Greta was now only wearing her blue wide pants and her white blouse, which was buttoned up to her throat. The girl placed herself in front of the growing flames, pulling her long hair forward over her left shoulder so it would dry faster being closer to the heat.

Some nestling was heard as Podrick was busying himself in preparing some supper.

The maid glanced out through a gap between the morbid wood and saw the heavy rain bend branches and bushes all around them. Otherwise everything seemed calm. She saw the horses happily chewing their food.

She sighed and after untying the last bit of her armor, she allowed herself to sit next to Greta, holding up her hands towards the flames for them to get warm. 

The maid bend her blonde head forward to allow the wound on her neck to get air. It was still hurting, even more in fact than the day she got it. Since the wolf’s claws had sunk into her flesh, there was no way she could see it, but she just had assumed it wasn’t deep and expected it to get better after cleaning it and to start itching soon as a sign for healing. Instead it kept pulsing uncomfortably and made it hurtful for her to move her head. She would have to mind to it more and maybe ask Podrick to look at it.

‘Is it normal here that women can become knights?’ Greta broke the silence.

Brienne looked at her amused. ‘No. And I’m not a knight. Only a sworn sword.’

‘I have never seen any woman with a sword like that where I’m from. Sure, knives for hunting and bow and arrow sometimes, but this looks like a proper and expensive sword.’ Greta continued, eyes admiring Oathkeeper, which was still hanging around Briennes hips.

Before Brienne could help it she smiled. It was not often she got complimented and the girl seemed so innocent and sincere saying it that Brienne couldn’t find any mocking in her words.

She took up her blade and drew it from its shaft. The valyrian steel caught the bright fire flames and shone golden like it was on fire itself. Brienne handed it carefully to Greta, who took it excitedly. She let her eyes run along the noble steel.

‘Where did you get it from?’

This question froze Briennes smile and turned it more into a grimace. Her eyes became sad.

‘It was a gift.’

‘A gift? That must have been a very good and very wealthy friend.’ The pregnant woman said with big eyes.

Brienne nodded noncommittally. She was sure about the wealthy. Not so sure about the friend part.

Jaime.

‘What’s the swords name?’

‘Oathkeeper.’

‘Did you name it?’

‘Yes.’

‘And the lion? What’s his meaning?’ Greta kept asking, running her fingers over the lions head on the swords hilt as if she would try to tickle out a purr.

‘It’s the house sigil of the… friend…. I got it from.’

‘I see.’ Greta said in awe, now took her second hand to balance it in front of her. ‘It is heavy. You are a very strong woman.’ Greta deduced simply and looked at Brienne in a weird mixture of curiosity and admiration.

The maid wasn’t good at handling looks like that and she quickly looked away, back into the flames.

‘Who is the father?’ Brienne tried to change the topic.

Gretas face grew dark. ‘Someone who doesn’t care. He is not important.’

‘Does he know of the baby?’

‘Yes. He is my husband.’

That created a thousand more questions in Briennes head, but she kept them at bay for now. She was scared if she asked too much at once, the girl might back away again and close up.

‘Do you have a husband?’ Greta now asked in return.

‘No.’ Brienne said.

‘They are afraid of you, huh?’ Greta said knowingly.

Brienne shot her a sharp look, searching her face for mockery once more, but couldn’t find it. Greta simply concluded. And she was right. 

‘Men are so weak and pathetic. As soon as something threatens their manliness, they get scared and angry. If I was a man, I would be honored to have you as my wife.’ Greta continued.

Brienne snorted and her face turned amused as one of her eyebrows climbed higher than the other. Only a very naïve girl could say something like that. Brienne used to be one of these girls. A long time ago.

‘Men want a woman. Not… whatever I am.’

‘You are a woman.’

‘… Technically yes. But actually no. I’m no damsel in distress.’

‘…No. That’s me.’ Greta said level-headed.

This stranger was a curious one. One moment she seemed like an innocent naïve little girl who didn’t live enough years on this earth yet to know how life worked and then, in the next moment, she seemed a lot older and burdened with a heaviness no one her age could have accumulated yet.

The maid leaned back and let her strong body rest on her arms while she closed her eyes and allowed the dancing flames to warm her face and body.

She heard Greta start a foreign tune as she untangled her wild locks and she heard Podrick shuffle around on the other side on the fire. It was a peaceful moment and the loud drumming of the rain on the roof was strangely soothing.

Until it knocked. Knock Knock Knock.

Briennes eyes flew open and she stared at their shack door which they had locked with a big broad piece of wood.

Greta stopped humming immediately and Podrick froze in his movements.

They listened hard for more sounds. It was almost impossible to hear anything over the gushing rain.

It knocked again. Knock knock knock. This time louder, impatient.

Brienne took up Oathkeeper next to Greta, got up in one swift movement, stepped over to the little gap in the wood to look out again. She could see two horses bound on a tree not far from their own.

‘Who’s there?’ Podrick called, each word shaking in fear.

‘Travellers from the road. We are seeking shelter from the rain and we can see you have a nice fire in there. Can we warm up with you?’ came a voice back.

Podrick looked at his lady, Brienne gestured to him to keep asking questions. Brienne and Podrick both were in agreement that whenever they encountered a situation like this, Podrick would speak first. It was always better for strangers to assume that they were dealing with men, rather than women. 

‘Why would just travelers travel so far from the Kingsroad?’ the squire kept asking, his voice now a bit more confident.

‘Same question to you, my friends.’ the voice answered, a light mocking tone now in his voice.

Brienne got closer to the door, frowning. It was hard to hear the voice properly, but she thought to recognize a familiar tone. How could that be?

‘Listen, we mean no harm. It is pouring outside, as you are well aware. A traveler shouldn’t get sick on the road. There is no shelter elsewhere near. We will warm us at the fire and be on our way as soon as this dreadful weather stops.’ the voice continued.

Brienne shook her head to Podrick. Whoever this might be and however noble their intentions were, Brienne knew that men’s intentions could shift rather easily once they see the presence of women. Brienne was not so much concerned about herself than for the young pregnant woman.

‘We have little space in here, and sick people already, You would just catch in here what you try to avoid. Be on your way, good Sers. We are sure the next shelter isn’t far.’ Podrick said, making up the sick-part in an attempt to scare them away.

‘We are only two people!’ it came from behind the door, sounding offended.

‘Enough of this.’ Another voice suddenly interrupted the first one. This one sounded much rougher and unfriendly. ‘We will get in there, if you like it or not. So now decide if we should just break through this goddamned door or if you let us in.’

Briennes anger rose in her and she abandoned their tactic. ‘Sers, we told you that we are not in a position to let you in. Now be on your way if you don’t want to get acquainted with our blades.’

Silence on the other side. Then the first voice spoke again: ‘We will not harm your women. Our only interest lies in escaping this flood!’

‘Leave, now! I will not say it again. Leave, if your lifes are dear to you.’ Brienne said strongly, but already knew that it would most likely come to a fight.

Another moment of silence. 

Then: ‘Brienne?’ she heard the voice ask disbelievingly.

The moment she heard this familiar voice say her name she knew instantly who this was. ‘Ser Jaime?’ she asked, her hands instantly lowering her sword. 

The voice on the other end laughed. ‘I knew it. I would recognize this stubborn behaviour everywhere.’

Brienne was too confused to feel offended. She couldn’t believe it. How could this be? Cautiously the maid removed the wood from the door and creaked the door open just a tiny bit to be able to peek outside.

There he was. A cold wet wind gushed in her face as she saw Jaime Lannister standing in front of her, soaked to the bone, his golden hair clutched in dark strands on his face, his green eyes shining like gemstones, looking at her in the same disbelief that she felt.

Time seemed to have a sudden standstill as they just looked at each other, shutting out the thunderstorm around them.

A thousand thoughts hunted themselves in Briennes head so that she had no idea what to think or say first. 

Why was he out here? Where was his armor, his fine clothes? He looked like a loiterer more than a noble knight.

‘What are you doing here?’ she finally broke the moment, opening the door a bit further.

‘Same as you, travelling North. I didn’t think I would actually still catch you.’ Jaime said, his old mocking smile on his fine lips. Briennes eyes flashed to movement behind Jaime.

A tall broad man was standing there, his white hair glued to his wet head, his face a see of white beard stubbles, his poisonous yellow eyes sending a shiver down Briennes spine.

‘Who is he?’ she asked, nodding towards the man.

‘A traveler too, I picked him up on the road.’ Jaime responded.

‘Oh, you picked me up, pretty boy?’ the traveler asked, eyebrows rising.

Jaime waved him away. ‘Yes yes, or the other way around. He is no danger, trust me. Can we come in?’

Brienne looked this foreign man over one more time before she nodded, then opened the door fully and stepped aside to let them in. She turned her head to Greta and saw pure terror in her face. The maid smiled reassuringly. ‘It is ok. They won’t harm us.’

But the girl looked at the incoming men and her eyes widened in panic as she saw the white haired man appear in the shack.

He seemed to see her at the same moment and stopped mid movement. ‘There you are!’ he shouted in surprise and before anyone could comprehend what was happening, he strode over to her, packed her by her long hair and pulled her up to him.

‘Let me go, you godforsaken mutant!’ she cried out, her hands trying desperately to loosen his grip on her hair. ‘Let me go!’ she cried even louder.

Brienne had her sword immediately up in front of her again and pointed it towards the man’s throat. ‘Let her go. Now.’ she hissed. Podrick drew his sword as well and came standing next to his lady, ready to attack.

‘Geralt! What in seven hells are you doing?’ Jaime asked startled. ‘If you are in need to release some steam, there are other ways. Thanks to my whoring brother, I know every brothel along the Kingsroad I had to drag him from.’

‘This has nothing to do with this. It’s her I have been looking for.’ Geralt responded.

‘Her? You are looking for a her? I thought we were searching for a man running with a sack of gold!’ Jaime exclaimed, completely stunned.

‘If you won’t release her immediately, I will decorate my blade with the insides of your throat.’ Brienne threatened, Oathkeepers head now touching the mans thick throat.

But the man named Geralt only shrugged unimpressed and held Greta even tighter. ‘This is none of your business, so stay out of this.’

‘This woman is under my protection.’ Brienne said, not the slightest intimidated.

‘Is she now? How did she deserve that?’ Geralt asked. ‘Because she is a woman alone and pregnant? Don’t be fooled, she is not as innocent as she looks. She is a runner, running from a deal she can’t break.’

‘What do you want from her?’ Brienne asked.

‘Her son.’ Geralt answered. ‘And you better give him to me.’ he added to the still fighting Greta.

‘Are you the father?’ Brienne frowned. 

Now Geralt chuckled. ‘Hell, no. Witcher don’t father children.’

‘Then by what right is her child yours?’

‘By the Law of Surprise.’

‘That is no law!’ Greta cried out, trying now to scratch Geralt’s arms. Brienne could see the red streams her nails left on the back of his hand, but the man wasn’t even flinching.

‘It is and it is deserved. I saved your husband as you well know. Your son is the reward, he is mine. It’s the way it works.’ 

‘I never agreed to anything like this. Go and kill my husband for all I care and fuck off.’ Greta spat back.

‘I will have your son, if you like it or not. The mark is on you, you can’t escape.’ Geralt hissed at her angrily, his deep rough voice a dark tunder in his throat. He raised his right hand and for a moment Brienne thought he would hit her. But instead he placed his palm on the left side of Gretas face, covering it. Gretas visible eye flew shut in pain. It was a mere second before he released her face again and went on to rip open her blouse at the top.

‘See.’ he said impatiently. ‘Here, the mark.’ He had exposed the pregnant woman’s cleavage where a dark mark surfaced. Like an old scar fine dark lines formed a wolf head right above where her breasts met.

‘Open your eyes.’ Geralt gnarled at Greta. When she wouldn’t obey, he shook her head hard. ‘Open. Your. Eyes.’ he repeated slowly. Finally the woman’s eyes blinked open and Brienne found her breath stop for a moment. The left eye, where the witchers hand had been just moments ago, shone bright red.

She looked up at her captor in pure hatred and spat in his face. He hadn’t seemed to expect that and loosened his grip on her. She took the chance and wriggled free. Brienne shot out a hand and grabbed the woman by the arm to pull her behind her.

The maidens sword kept pointing at Geralts throat, but he stayed unimpressed. He didn’t move to risk a cut, but just looked at the two women in front of him. ‘We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Both ways will lead to my will.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that.’ Brienne said threateningly, ready to attack, feeling Podrick coming closer to her, his sword now right next to hers.

Geralt looked her over. ‘You are a strong woman, I don’t doubt that. But you don’t stand a chance. Step aside. You will not be able to prevent this from happening.’

‘I can and I will.’

‘Then die.’ Geralt simply said, drawing one of his massive swords that were haltered on his broad back.

‘Now, now. Everyone, please, calm down.’ Jaime interrupted and slowly came to stand between Brienne and Geralt. He held out his left finger and led her sword gently away from Geralts throat while looking at her with determined eyes.

‘How can you defend this man?’ Brienne asked in disbelief, her blue eyes harder than the steel of her sword.

‘I am not defending anyone. I pledge for peace before we all get slaughtered by hjm.’ Jaime said in a calm voice.

‘I will not let him do this.’ Brienne protested.

‘I know. I know your strength. I have also seen his strength. Please believe me when I tell you that this man has powers no normal human being has. Please, Brienne.’ Jaimes voice grew so soft and his eyes so calming on her, that without even realizing she was doing it, she slowly put her sword down. ‘Thank you.’ he whispered to her, then turned to the witcher.

‘These are my friends. I will not have them hurt, do you understand?’

‘I don’t serve you, you cannot tell me to do or not to do anything.’ the witcher responded, tilting his head.

‘No, you are not serving me. But we were helping each other, were we not? And when I tell you these are trusted friends who will not do anything foolish, then you have to believe me.’

‘I don’t care about your lot. I’m here for the girl.’

‘You are here for her son.’ Jaime corrected him.

The witcher nodded ‘Aye.’

‘But she doesn’t have her son yet. I hope you don’t plan to carve him out of her belly?’ Jaime asked, eyebrows rising high.

‘Of course not. I need the boy alive and well.’

‘Then you don’t have to take her yet, have you. She doesn’t seem to labor anytime soon.’

‘I will not keep playing hide and seek with her.’ Geralt gnarled.

‘Yes, well, you can hardly blame a mother for protecting her child.’

‘It is not hers. It is mine.’ Geralt insisted.

Jaime exhaled in frustration and turned to Brienne. ‘He is almost as stubborn as you.’

‘This is hardly the time.’ Brienne snarled back which send a dark chuckle to Jaimes mouth.

Briennes eyes followed the Kingslayer as he looked around the she-warrior to the one she tried to protect.

‘Is it true what he says?’ Jaime asked calmly.

Greta appeared slowly behind Brienne, one dark eye and one red eye burning through the witcher with disgust.

‘It is true that he saved my husband from death. We are not wealthy people, we couldn’t pay him for it. So he demanded the Law of Surprise as payment.’ Greta said slowly, never looking away from the white haired man.

“What is the Law of Surprise?’ Podrick now asked.

‘A treacherous settlement, stealing children from innocent families in need.’ Greta spat angrily.

‘It was chance that is was your son.’ Geralt explained, his deep voice suddenly much calmer. ‘It could have been anything else. That is how it works. That is why it is called the Law of Surprise. Not even the witcher knows beforehand what it will mean.’ He paused for a moment, before he continued: ‘Look, I’m sorry. Alright? Do you think I enjoy chasing after women who try to protect their children? No. I offered this deal to your husband. If he hadn’t agreed, we wouldn’t be here right now. But he did. So the deal is done. You are marked. No witcher will ever leave you alone as long as you have it on you.’

With this Gretas eyes lost their hateful glow. It was as if someone had blown out their fire. They slowly lost focus and drifted to look at the fire still burning in their midst, unimpressed by what was happening around it.

‘What will you do to him?’ she asked silently.

‘Raise him to be one of us. He will not be harmed.’ Geralt said.

Greta snorted. ‘If he survives the Trail of Grasses, you mean.’ Then, her voice seemed to have lost its fire too and she sank to the ground next to Brienne. The maid grabbed her hands and quickly followed her down to lay one arm around her hanging shoulders.

Her face though found Jaimes again, a look of confusion and anger in her features. The Queens brother tried to give her a reassuring nod before turning his back on her and facing the man watching them, hands crossed before him.

‘Alright, so far so good. So, for now, let’s all take a breath and call a truce. No one goes anywhere in the hell of this weather anyways. I have very good experiences in having truces with people who don’t like each other, so this should work out just fine.’ he winked at Brienne over his shoulder, who again gave him the ‘do you think this appropriate right now’-face before he continued: 

‘Geralt promises to leave the girl be for now and not to take her away to.. wherever you are from. That doesn’t mean you give up the claim to her child.’ he added quickly when Geralt had opened his mouth immediately in protest.

‘At the same time’, he continued and gestured to Greta, ‘the girl promises not to run away and stay with the group so we all have time to figure out what to do next. And no one tries to murder Geralt. Just as Geralt promises not murder anyone of us.’

There was silence after this, everyone thinking hard of any disadvantages this truce might have. As the flames cackled happily in their midst and lit all of their dark faces, the tension started to ease off a little.

‘So be it. But I will be on my way as soon as the weather clears and I will take her with me.’ Geralt snorted disgruntled and loosened his posture.

As the witcher untied his swords from his back and leaned them against the wooden wall, Brienne glanced at Podrick and nodded to him to put his sword away.


	6. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this time. The next will be longer! :)

The rain gushed down as if there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. Jaime didn’t remember when he ever had experienced such a wrecked weather. But then again, growing up at the sea he was rather spoilt. It might have been rough and stormy sometimes, but it never grew really cold and rain was rare. Not to mention the almost warm temperatures of Kings Landing.

It took a while for the new found group of five people to calm their nerves. Everything had happened so quickly that everyone needed time to digest what had just happened. Everyone except Geralt as it appeared. 

The mutant had sat down cross-legged before the fire, had closed his eyes and let the flames dance on his face, which looked as peaceful as if he had just been meditating for the last hours. Jaime had seen him do this before. In fact, he even watched him do this at night, which made Jaime wonder if this man ever truly slept.

His eyes wandered off to Podrick, who was preparing some food with still shaky hands. He was being so nervous that even the girl Greta had settled next to him and helped him pluck herbs to spice the deer meat Jaime had given him. But every so often, Gretas different colored eyes shot towards the still witcher, expecting an attack every moment. She was a beautiful woman, Jaime couldn’t help but notice, but her red eye made her look unnatural somehow. Almost creepy.

Finally he allowed his eyes to drown into blue sapphires. Brienne was sitting alone at the other side of the fire and threw new branches in to keep it burning. She seemed to be determined not to look up, even though she must have felt his gaze on her.

With a sigh he finally got rid of his wet clothes and put them near the fire. His breeches were still fine, but his cloak and tunic were soaked all through, so that he had to completely undress his upper body to get rid of the deep cold chill that had been nagging on him. Enjoying the warmth of the fire on his body, he kneeled down to get a new dry tunic out of his travel bag and put it quickly on.

As he turned around to sit next to Brienne, her eyes looked shocked, as if he had just caught her in something.

Jaime could not believe he was actually sitting next to Brienne of Tarth again. Just like that. It had been an eternity since he had been with her. Really with her. 

That hadn’t stopped him from thinking of her at times. In fact, more than he cared to admit. And since he had been convinced that, in reality, he would probably never see her again, he had allowed himself to do that. It was save, nothing bad could ever come out of it. 

He had also kept thinking of their journey together, from the Stark camp back to Kings Landing. It made his spirits light up whenever he called on these memories. They had been special to him. Comforting in times when things got too much in the capitol.  
Of course, he knew that he had glorified these memories far too much. Memories were an unreliable curse after all. 

It was what his brain always tended to do. Bad memories got exaggerated into traumas that would haunt him at night, while good memories got exaggerated into the most blissful experiences, conveniently blending out the bad parts so that he would long for them even more.   
Reality never was as black and white as memories made them appear. He had made this experience many times before and wasn’t fooled by it anymore.

Therefore, when his thoughts would wander to the Maiden of Tarth, Jaime would tell himself that his head was simply exaggerating the time they had spent together, turning it into this special, wonderful thing. And Jaime would force himself to think also of the bad parts it included: They had hated their guts. She was with him all the bloody time. Annoying him. Being awkward. And boring. Even monitoring him when he had to relieve himself in the woods. He had been dirty, not moved his body properly in over a year and had felt desperate and depressed.

That was what he would tell himself all the time to even out the black-and-white thinking. He wanted to force it into a grey zone, to stain the white his brain was clinging on to so badly. 

Then again, he would allow himself to completely drown in his memories’ bliss to calm him, especially after he had returned to Kings Landing from being held prisoner and things had spun out of control:

Joffrey poisoned. Myrcella dying in his arms. Tommen commiting suicide. Tyrion killing their father. Cersei turning slowly but surely completely mad. It had been too much. 

So his mind needed hope. That was why it would seek out the save place called Brienne and play their journey together over and over and over again in his head. How she would look at him after he just lost a hand after saving her from getting raped. How she would look at him after he freed her from the grasp of the Boltons. How she would look at him after he set her on the road with the task to find and save Sana with a new sword, new armory and a squire. 

Every time these intense ocean blue eyes would run his face up and down, trying to read it, trying to understand why he was good to her. These moments had given him hope. And clarity. Of who he had actually wanted to be. Of who he maybe still could become. With Brienne it had seemed possible, graspable.

It had been fun to irritate her. Jaime had enjoyed shattering her stern judgement of him piece by piece until she was too confused to be hateful towards him. This had also come with confusion on his part. Why being with her, being good to her made him feel a certain way. How her presence seemed to wake a part of him which he had buried 17 years ago.

And which he seemed unable to bury again after having returned to the capitol. He had found everything as he had left it. In a way. And in another way, nothing would have ever been the same again. He had tried to fit in so much, to get back to the life he had known before he had fled the capitol after confronting Ned Stark, riding out to fight the Young Wolf. 

The more he tried to get back this life, the more his world turned into ashes. And he could not look at things ever the same way again. Briennes voice would haunt him at night when he tried to find peace. Her face would look at him, the beautiful eyes in her unattractive face glaring disapprovingly whenever Cersei would do something sinister. Whenever he tried to be sinister again, just like in the past. It didn’t work anymore. The maidens voice would whisper in his ears what the right thing to do would be. And he found himself following it. Or at least trying to as best as circumstances allowed him to. This new behavior lead to finding himself utterly alone in the midst of his family, of his world. 

So Brienne became his lullaby. A song he would sing to himself when things got bad. A coping mechanism. And it was ok. Because he would never see her again. 

Until he did see her again and let her escape from Riverrun as his army took over the castle again. There he thought, as he was waving at her in the darkness, that was the last time he would ever see her.

Until he saw her again at the summit in the Dragonpit. It was only a fleeting moment they spoke but somehow she had managed again to sneak into his conscience and put it right, set his course. And, without consciously deciding it, he had done what she had said. Again. Which ultimately made him end up right there, where he sat now. Next to her.

‘Why are you travelling with him?’ Briennes whispering voice suddenly cut through his thoughts.

Jaime glanced at her and saw her big eyes burning through the witcher opposite them, still meditating and apparently unaware of his surroundings.

Jaime exhaled. ‘Well, he… saved my life. And kept me save.’

‘Why would he do that?’ Brienne asked.

‘Because he needed a scout as much as I needed a right sword hand.’

‘You helped him track this poor girl down.’

‘To be fair, I had no idea who exactly he was looking for and why. And as it seems, he is not completely in the wrong. The girl is part of a deal.’

Brienne snorted in disgust. ‘I almost forgot how you are a Lannister after all.’

‘After all.’ Jaime repeated, eyebrows rising. ‘What does this ‘after all’ contain, exactly?’

Brienne ignored his remark. Her eyes had left Geralts figure and instead stared into the fire absentmindedly again.

‘If I really would be so much a Lannister as you doom me to be, I wouldn’t be here right now.’ Jaime added with a certain amount of bitterness in his tone.

Now Briennes was glancing at him, suddenly confusion and questions on her face. ‘Why are you here?’

The Kingslayer ran his left hand through his slowly drying hair and tried very hard not to look at the maid. He was here to answer this precise question, but now that it came to it, he shied away. Speaking it out loud meant making it final somehow. And Jaime didn’t know how he would deal with that. So he settled, for only speaking one part of the truth for now: ‘To tell Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen that no help will come from the South.’

Brienne gasped and sat up straight. ‘Wha..? But we left in agreement that-‘

‘I know. But as you put it just a moment ago very nicely, we are Lannisters. Don’t hold us true to our word.’ He didn’t know why he felt the need to include Cersei and him in a way that would make it seem they were still on the same side. He had made this cut, he had stepped away. But he couldn’t talk about it yet.

Briennes nostrils flared and showed her anger about this. ‘Then why did she bother to pretend?’

‘You know, my sister is changing her mind about a whole lot of things these days. Very quickly.’ Jaime said, trying to give his voice the familiar arrogant mocking sound to it, but wasn’t sure if he got it right.

‘So she doesn’t believe in the threat of the Night King after all? The wight was not enough to convince her?’ the maid kept asked, voice shaking with anger and frustration.

‘Oh no, she believes it. But she also believes that she knows better than anyone else.’ Jaime explained. ‘It appears Cersei bought the entire Golden Company, which Euron Greyjoy will ship into Wetseros. An impressive army apparently. Cersei thinks this way she will be able to deal with whoever or whatever will come for her from the North eventually.’

‘Huh.’ Brienne only said. ‘So Euron Greyjoy didn’t abandon you?’

‘No.’

Jaime felt Briennes eyes on him, probably scanning his face for any clues of the things he didn’t say. It was clear that he was not supposed to be there. Sitting next to a Stark affiliate, telling her the Queens plans. Brienne must wonder what had happened. But he also knew she wouldn’t openly ask, not yet anyways. She was way too… correct to do that. And as much as her political correctness had amused and frustrated him in the past, right now he was glad for it. It gave him time to prepare himself for the new truth in his life. The Lannister twins were apart. Never to grow back again. 

Jaime was on his own. Truly on his own. Knowing that for the first time in his life there was not the other half of him waiting for him. Giving him strength. Sending him nice dreams. There was nothing left of his sister in him, and emptiness had taken its place instead. And the knowledge sank in that from now on, he himself needed to be enough to fill it.


	7. Unarmed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your sweet comments on this story so far, it made me really happy and motivated me to finish this chapter much sooner than expected. Yay :D!  
> Enjoy :)!

A loud bang followed by frightened neighing shook Brienne out of her sleep and she pushed her body up from her sleeping position. With blinking eyes she looked around, trying to understand where she was.

The fire that had been cackling in front of her when she fell asleep was burned down. Next to her, a curly mess of hair told her that Greta was sleeping right next to her, head towards her own head. Frowning Brienne noticed some hair strands were stuck on her right cheek and she stroked them away. Apparently she had been sleeping on Gretas hair.

As the maid got up slowly her gaze fell on Jaime, leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Her heart made an unnatural jump at that. Right. Jaime was here. Jaime and this man…

BAM. Another loud bang, this time also letting Jaime startle and moaning in annoyance as his head started rolling left to right, refusing to wake.

Brienne quickly went for the door and stepped outside. The rain must have stopped at some point during the night. Still it was cold, but the morning birds were singing, letting the forest appear less frightening. 

‘What is going on here?’ she asked coldly as she saw Geralt rubbing the back of his head, his face twisted in pain. 

‘I’m trying to get the portal working.’ he grumbled, leaning over to collect the deep purple stones from the wet ground.

‘Those belong to Greta.’ Brienne said accusingly.

‘Just because she had them doesn’t mean they belong to her. She stole them. Yennifer is rather furious about that.’ the witcher replied. He took the stones in one of his big hands and untied his necklace. He took the wolf head in his palm, studying it intensely.

Now Jaime appeared behind Brienne, hair ruffled, eyes still very small. ‘What is this noise?’ he complained.

‘Sssh. One more try. Stay back.’ Geralt said as he placed the purple gemstones in a sort of circle on the muddy ground again, murmuring a weird sing sang in a foreign tongue Brienne didn’t understand. Then he sat down cross-legged in front of them, closed his eyes and while one hand was turned towards the stones, the other hand was still holding the wolf necklace. He held it to his face, hisfingertips touching his lips.

Then, after a few moments, the maid saw the gemstones’ dark purple spark bright white lights. Very small at first and then slowly getting bigger and longer, until they would touch each other, connect into each other, becoming even more powerful. Brienne felt a weird force evolve from these stones and she unconsciously grabbed on to the wood of the shack to steady herself as an unnatural wind started to whirl around the stone circle.

The bright white sparks started to create a real circle now around the stones, until there was a loud BANG and the lights flashed even brighter than before. Then the spectacle stopped, the sparks grew smaller again and then vanished, hiding back into their stones. The wind that had come up was escaping the circle, washing over its audience like a storm. Geralt got swiped off his butt and he fell on his back, his head smashing on the ground. Briennes grip on the shack stopped her from loosing her balance. And she saw that Jaime had done the same as her.

The wind vanished as fast as it had come. The stones had turned its normal dark purple again, every glow gone. The horses tripled on their spot, snorting disapprovingly as Geralt got up again groaning.

‘Shit.’ he said as he stomped on the ground to let out his frustration. ‘It doesn’t work.’

‘What are you trying to do exactly?’ Jaime now asked.

‘Opening the fucking portal so we can go back to our world. But I need magic to do that. A place where magic is prominent. And this godforsaken land is just hopeless..’

‘Is this how you got here?’ Jaime wondered.

‘Aye. After your innocent pregnant protectee stole the stones from my friend to escape through a portal, I followed her. And I hate portals.’ he added in a botte voice, glancing over Briennes shoulder and as Brienne turned to follow his gaze she saw Greta standing behind Jaime, looking out from the shack’s inside.

‘Then how did you get here in the first place when you need magic?’ Brienne asked.

‘The place the portal opens from needs magic. The place where the portal takes you doesn’t. Convenient, isn’t it?’ he snarled in Gretas direction again.

‘So what are you planning to do?’ Jaime asked cautiously.

Geralt let the stones vanish in his horses’ saddle pocket and rubbed his hurting head. ‘Well… you told me about this… battle you will have in the North with these monsters. As lousy as your description was, it sounds like they posses magic. Which again means that the North must hold some sort of magic. Also my wolf symbol points, in the rare occasion it does point, further North. So I guess we keep travelling with you… for now.’ 

‘This will be a merry ride.’ Jaime grinned, glancing at Brienne.

The maid frowned in return. ‘And when we arrived? You will not take Greta with you.’

‘Not again…’ Jaime sighed as Geralt came striding towards her.

‘We can decide this right here if you insist.’ he hissed.

‘Friends!’ Jaime exclaimed, stepping immediately in front of Brienne before Geralt could reach her. ‘We said step by step, remember? We extend the truce we called last night to when we arrive at Winterfell. The lands we travel might be not monster or magic infested, but dangerous all the same. It would be unwise to split the group, we are saver travelling together.’

Geralt halted, considering Jaime with narrowed eyes. ‘We all have the same destination, even though we have different motivations. Lets make use of that and worry about the rest when we get there.’ the Quees brother continued.

Brienne thought the witcher would not agree to this a second time and cursed herself about being so stupid as to leave Oathkeeper behind in the shack. Her body tensed, expecting an attack every second, her right hand slowly moving towards Jaime so she could push him out of the way if needed.

However the witcher would do no such thing. He seemed to listen to reason and nodded. ‘Fine. But one attempt against me, one attempt to flee…’ his yellow eyes wandered to the shack again and Brienne knew he was burning through Gretas eyes again. ‘… and we are gone. Immediately.’

Brienne stopped her hand as she saw the back of Jaimes head nod. The he turned around to her, looking at her again with these determined eyes that said that she should not do something stupid.

She didn’t like this the tiniest bit. But she was determined to protect this pregnant girl and seeing this witcher’s weapons as well as seeing him being able to perform magic left a seed of doubt in her mind if she would be really able to take him on. So maybe travelling together for now was the best thing to do. 

She felt her own head nod as well as she returned Jaimes determined gaze.

‘Girl?’ Geralt now asked suspicious.

‘Fine. For now.’ they heard Greta answer, appearing now finally fully at the shacks door.

‘That’s decided then. Let’s have some breakfast and be on our way.’ Geralt finalized and turned to walk towards his horse.

‘Where is Podrick?’ Brienne asked, finally noticing that he was missing.

‘Here, my lady.’ It came from behind her horse. 

Brienne turned as she heard his voice, his head barely sticking out over the horses’ back. “What are you doing?’ she asked

‘I have cleaned our horses, my lady. They were pretty muddy and dirty after riding through last nights thunderstorm.’ he answered, holding up a horse groomer.

Brienne smiled. ‘Thanks.’

The group walked about the little shack to get themselves and their horses ready for the travel. Jaime gave Podrick more of their lot of meat and bread to prepare some breakfast as Brienne got in her armor and Geralt sharpened his swords.

Greta had vanished for a few minutes before she came tumbling back, holding on to the trees as she emerged. Brienne saw the girls face being as pale as a sheet again and she was holding her stomach. By now the maid knew that the girl was sick quite often. She had heard before that this was a common sign of carrying a child, although she had thought this was mostly happening at the beginning of a pregnancy and not in the later stages. But then again, what did she know.

Another noticeable thing for Brienne was that Greta moved rather slowly. She walked slow, sat down and got up slow, holding her back a lot. She still thought her belly didn’t look too impressive yet, but maybe she was to labor sooner than she initially had thought. Despite the occasional retching, Greta was a good eater and needed something to chew on every few hours during the day or she would become dizzy. For this Brienne was relieved to have the witcher with his full stock on food, especially meat. She also thought he was most likely really good at hunting, which would prove helpful in the days to come.

When they had finished their breakfast, they got up their horses and started their journey together. 

The clouds had cleared so that no more rain was to be expected. Due to the downpour however, the forest ground was muddy and the horses hooves sank in deep and slowed them down considerably. Additionally they agreed that they should stay off the main road even more since they were quite a big group now which was easier to spot. This would probably mean a longer travel up North than the maid had hoped for. Brienne didn’t like that, but the alternatives looked even more unattractive.

They agreed on a particular riding order: Geralt insisted on riding at the front since he claimed he had the best senses and could warn them of anything or anyone approaching them. He also insisted that Greta was to ride behind him. This in return made Brienne insist to ride right behind the girl and ordered Podrick to ride next to her, so that she would be protected on two sides. This arrangement left Jaime in the back with Brienne and, depending on the space, he would ride behind or next to her.

The forest smell was fresh and clear and the maid sucked in the air gratefully. She loved the pure smell that came after rain. A milky mist passed low at the ground, swirling around the tree trunks around them, not even vanishing as the day grew older. The woods seemed to inhale the freshness just as much and Brienne could hear thick raindrops fall from overly heavy leaves and run down wet glistening wood.

The breaths of riders and horses blew icy white clouds that seemed to melt into the forest mist as the trees around them grew lighter and finally allowed the sun shine through to touch their heads and faces.

‘Your neck doesn’t look good.’ Brienne heard Jaimes voice as he rode up next to her.

She had completely forgotten about that. The tumult in the morning had made her forget the pain on her neck and that she wanted to attend to it.

‘What happened?’ he asked.

‘Wolves.’ Brienne answered.

‘Wolves? Down here?’

‘I was surprised as well. Maybe not only men try to escape the approaching threat from beyond the wall.’ the maid wondered.

‘Possible. It seems we are the only ones insane enough to travel North these days. So what happened?’ Jaime kept pushing.

‘Wolves attacked Greta. I came to help her and fight them off. They retreated as the wolf leader decided to spare us. I think it was a direwolf.’

‘A direwolf? One of those big beasts the Starks held as pets?’

Brienne nodded.

‘Why did they spare you?’

Brienne shrugged. ‘I don’t know. My best guess is he recognized my Stark cloak. Although then I don’t know why they wouldn’t attack you.’ She glanced at the Kingslayer.

‘Well, if you take them as smart as to recognize your affiliation with the Starks, they will also recognize a man they don’t stand a chance against.’ Jaime answered, nodding towards their leading rider.

Brienne looked at the Jaime, frowning. ‘I have never seen you so easily impressed.’

‘I am not easily impressed. You will know what I’m talking about when you see him fight. He is not only superior in power and speed, he can do magic.’ Jaime explained.

‘When did you see him fight?’ Brienne now asked.

She saw Jaime hesitate for a moment, before he said: ‘Some cutthroats on the road, wanted to plunder us. Geralt took care of them.’

Briennes eyes kept looking at Jaimes face, but he didn’t look at her anymore.

‘So how did you get those nasty looking cuts?’ the Queens brother asked after a moment of silence, gesturing at Briennes back.

‘Well, before the wolves retreated, they attacked. One buried its claws in my skin. It’s nothing. Just needs some time to heal.’

Jaime now stood in his stirrups and leaned over his horse towards Brienne to have a better look at her neck. ‘Doesn’t strike me as nothing. Let me see.’ he said, reaching over with his left hand to carefully touch it.

Before Brienne could understand what he was doing, a stinging pain shot through her and she pushed his hand away.

‘It hurts you.’ Jaime stated.

‘What language do you want me to speak so you understand? I said it’s fine.’ Brienne snapped at him, avoiding his gaze.

She heard Jaime chuckle and could have sworn she heard him breathe: ‘Stubborn beast.’

\--

They rode through most of the day, halting only to have some lunch. As the light started leaving the woods more and more, they decided to make camp for the night. They had kept close to the forest stream Jaime had already travelled along with Geralt to have water for the horses and for the riders to fill up their supplies.

Podrick found them a nice spot underneath a big willow tree, its long branches flowing like a curtain in the evening breeze, covering the group considerably as they tied their horses there.

The fire however they had to light next to it as not to set the long branches on fire. Geralt said he wanted to check the area so they wouldn’t be unpleasantly surprised in the night and took off on foot. Brienne watched him drink something which glowed in a grey shimmer out of the bottle he was drinking it from. She heard him gasp after finishing it, shaking his head as if to get rid of the bitter taste. Then he set off noiselessly, vanishing between the trees.

Greta seemed more tired than usual from the days ride, the stress of Geralts appearance clearly wearing on her nerves. She had set up her bed right away and rested on it while her dark and red eye were watching Podrick prepare supper.

Also the nerves of Brienne herself were not the best. It was not only that she felt the need to constantly watch this strange witcher guy so he wouldn’t do anything to Greta. She also seemed strangely upset, and she couldn’t quite place why. Her mind was all over the place making it difficult for her to concentrate and she felt weirdly shaky.

As she got rid of her armor for the night, her eyes followed the Kingslayer, who had set up his bed as well and was now chatting with Podrick. 

Life was strange, really. She would never have thought she would travel with Jaime Lannister again. They had been on opposite sides of a war that had dragged out in not starting for a long time now and she had known that sooner or later, she might end up having to fight him. But having him around her again, having the same purpose, at least for the moment, that had come as a surprise and Brienne didn’t know how she felt about that.

As she had finally gotten rid of her armor, the maid stepped down to the flowing water stream to refill her water bottle. She dived her long fingers in the flowing cold, enjoying the sensation on her skin. 

She wanted to know what had happened. Why Jaime was here. It made her restless, knowing there clearly was something very wrong with him being here. He had told her last night what his intentions were, and Brienne believed them. 

But if it was true that Jaime planned to tell Jon and Daenerys about Cerseis betrayal, that meant he acted clearly against the Crown, against his sister. Why? Why did he leave Kings Landing? Why was he turning on the Queen and giving up his position? And how did he get away with this? Did he flee? Did Cersei let him go? Brienne was utterly confused. There was just no easy explanation that would explain Jaime abandoning his sister. The sister he would put over anything else. What must have happened to shatter this bond?

She hadn’t asked Jaime right away. He must know that it was obvious. So if he hadn’t told her yet, it was because he chose not to. And he didn’t have to disclose his intentions with her anyways. She was not important in this war. Jon and Daenerys would want an explanation however. And until then she just had to wait. It was not her place to ask questions like that. And still, she didn’t feel good with it. Any of it. Having Jaime here made her feel uncomfortable and edgy. He was too close somehow. Invading her space. Not physically of course. But on another, emotional level. Just thinking about it left Brienne confused. 

As she leaned down to sink her water bottle into the stream, stretching her neck forward as she did, she inhaled sharply as her neck started pulsing painfully again.  
She set the water bottle aside to run her fingers over the wounds. It stung immediately when her fingertips touched them. She could feel open wetness and raisings of the skin at several places. As she retreated her hand to look at them, they glistened red at the tips. So the wound was still open? How could this be?

‘Will you finally let me look at this now?’ she heard a voice behind her and looked over her shoulder.

Jaime had joined her at the stream, also his water bottle in is left hand.

Brienne looked him up and down as she felt the urge to send him away instantly. She tried to calm this sudden rise of emotion by swallowing hard. ‘What would you be able to do?’ Brienne asked evasively.

‘Telling you how it looks for a start. That is what you were wondering, wasn’t it?’ Jaime asked, his green eyes sinking into hers. Brienne quickly looked away as she struggled to keep her panic in control. ‘I will ask Podrick to mind to it.’ she said.

‘You ask your squire to look at it, who is already busy lighting the fire and cooking rather than me, who is standing right next to you and offers. Should I be offended?’ Jaimes voice was mocking, but the maid could hear a cold undertone.

She snorted in surrender. ‘Fine. Be quick.’ She turned her head forward so her neck would be exposed and heard the Kingslayer step behind her and leaning down. 

‘Stay still.’ she heard him say as his touch made her turn instantly into a stone pillar. She felt a clumsy stretch of fabric as Jaime was pushing down her tunic around her neck to expose the entire wound. Then she felt rough fingertips trace over her skin. The maid couldn’t control the goose bumps follow this touch running down her arms. It needed all of her self-control that she didn’t stand up and leave right there.

The Kingslayer seemed to examine the wounds now since the touching turned into painful burning along her neck. She sucked in the air and narrowed her eyes as she felt the cuts being stretched.

‘It’s festering.’ she heard Jaime say. ‘The cuts are not long, but deep. The beast must have sunken its entire claws in you. It needs cleaning and no irritation.’

‘I don’t irritate it.’ Brienne said.

‘Your clothes and armor do. These two wounds here…’ he touched a part which was particularly nasty and Brienne cried out. ‘Ouch. Could you be any more clumsy?’ she snapped.  
‘I barely touched it. That tells you how inflamed it is. They are particularly bad because this is where your armor starts and probably creates friction. Wait.’ Jaime said calmly, got up and went back to their camp. Briennes eyes followed him as he was fumbling with something underneath the willow, then returned with a little jar in his hand and a cloth.

‘Lucky for you, I am somewhat of an expert by now when it comes to treating open wounds. This balm did wonders for me when my arm was still open, Qyburn mixed it.’ he explained as he dipped the cloth in the stream before running it over Briennes wounds. She clenched her teeth as the pain shot through her again, her hands balled into fists on her lap.

After cleaning it, the Queens brother reached for the balm, dived his fingers in and spread the paste over the maidens neck. Brienne felt the fresh pain she had felt ease a bit immediately and welcomed the soothing feeling.

‘Use this balm before we start riding in the morning and before you sleep at night and things should be better soon. Although you shouldn’t wear your armor for the next days.’ Jaime said as he distributed the balm over the last gash.

‘Not wear my armor? Are you mad?’ Brienne asked disbelievingly and turned around to shoot the man behind her a scolding look.

Jaime remained unimpressed and simply shrugged. ‘It is your choice. Wear the armor if you want, but it will keep upsetting these cuts and I tell you now, chances are the puss gets worse and you will get a really bad infection in. That will very quickly turn into a serious wound then.’

‘Since when are you a maester?’ Brienne asked grumpily.

‘I am not. But it is really not that hard, you just have to look at it to know. Which you can’t. So you just have to trust me. Ask your squire or the pregnant girl if you believe their judgment to be more valid.’ Jaime said, his voice again having a cold undertone.

Brienne glanced up to the camp and saw that Greta was watching them curiously. That made her aware of how close they were sitting. Immediately she slipped a little bit away.

‘Listen.’ Jaime said and made Brienne turn around to him, to look into these unbelievably wonderful green eyes again. ‘You will be just fine. You are a skilled warrior. In fact one of the best I have ever seen. You don’t need your armor. You still have your sword. And while I cannot say that having me with you will be to any advantage in combat, we do have Geralt. He will take care of us.’

‘I don’t like not having my armor on me.’ Brienne said.

‘I know. But maybe it is time you learn to live without it for a while. It might be good for you.’

Brienne snorted. ‘Why would that be good for me?’

‘Things might finally be able to get through to you.’ 

The maids eyebrows wandered deep into her eyes as she considered these words. He wasn’t talking about actual armor anymore. What was he getting at?

‘You don’t wear your armor for the night anyways. So let me for now at least put a dry cloth on the gushes. The balm will keep it sucked to your skin. Try to sleep on your belly tonight.’ Jaime continued before Brienne could really make sense of his last comment.

Jaime gestured for Brienne to turn around again so he could apply the cloth on her back. Brienne felt a slight texture been gently laid on her skin and she said after biting her lip: ‘Thanks.’

‘It’s nothing.’ Jaime responded.

\--

As the maid came back to the camp, she sat down next to Greta, stretching her head to the far left and right to test when the pain would set in. Jaime had stayed by the water.

‘So, how do you know this Jaime guy?’ Greta asked silently, sliding closer to the maid. Brienne knew right away that the scene at the stream had sparked her interest. Annoyed, she took a deep breath. She was really not in the mood. And also, she had no idea how to answer this question in one sentence.

‘I… had once been given the task to take him down from the North back to the capitol.’ she said with a flat voice.

‘Ah.’ Greta said, nodding slowly. ‘And I heard he is the Queens brother. It’s good to have important friends.’

‘He is not my friend.’ Brienne said immediately.

She felt Greta turn her head and look at her, so she tried really hard to keep her face straight and busied herself with getting out Oathkeeper and started sharpening it.

Suddenly Geralt parted the long widow branches in front of him and entered their little camp. Everyone looked up a little startled, no one had heard him coming.

‘So, the area is clear. No one near our spot. Although there are wolves a few miles to the South, not sure where they are headed.’ he informed the group as he sat himself down in front of the fire as well, where Podrick was just adjusting the deer meat on top of it.

‘They are probably the same wolves that attacked us some days ago.’ Brienne said.

‘They attacked you? So they are following us. And no wonder…’ Geralt said as he pointed at Briennes tunic and breeches as well as Gretas clothes. ‘… you are still full of blood.’

‘We are not.’ Greta said offended, but immediately looked herself over for proof of this accusation. 

‘There was no real bloodshed. Only one wolf got a cut, and…’ Brienne started, but Geralt waved her comment away and interrupted her words: ‘Yes, and you got injured on your neck, I smelled that the first moment I saw you.’

‘You smelled it?’ Greta asked, nose wrinkled in disgust.

Geralt looked at her, tapping his index finger on his nose. ‘Mutant, remember? Get used to it. You don’t have a lot of blood on you, barely visible on your dark clothes, but I can see and smell it all the same. So can the wolves. It draws them to us. I’m actually surprised they stayed away so long. So we need to get rid of that, you need to wash your clothes properly. And yourselves as well.’

‘Are you insane? Winter is almost upon us, the water is freezing! I cannot bath in ice cold water, as can’t the baby.’ Greta shot back, one of her eyebrows shooting up when she mentioned her child. She knew this would make Geralt care, if he liked it or not.

It seemed to work, Geralt stroked his ashen beard as he searched for a solution. 

‘The water didn’t catch up with the sudden temperature change yet, I just washed my face an feet in it.’ came Jaimes voice as he rejoined the group.

‘Well, that’s settled then. Tonight we should be save, you will wash first thing in the morning. I’m sure the big woman can help you.’ Geralt grinned.

Greta looked up at Jaime as if he just told her the most offensive joke. Jaime noticed her reproachful stare and shrugged his shoulders. ‘What? It’s true, you will be fine in the water.’ And with that he took one of the meat skewers from the fire and let himself fall on his bed for the night.

‘Is this your sword?’ Brienne heard Greta ask, her voice suddenly curious. Brienne saw the girls eyes fixed on Jaimes waist where his blade was shining in the dancing flames.

‘Yes.’ Jaime answered.

‘It has a lion on the top.’ she continued and Briennes breath stopped for a moment.

‘Yes. It’s the sigil of my House.’ Jaime explained, sinking his teeth in the juicy meat.

‘A very wealthy and very good friend.’ Brienne heard Greta whisper so that only she could hear.


	8. Riverbank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you lovely people all had a spooky Halloween :)! 
> 
> Next chapter is here. I'm sorry it is not very long, but it just made sense to cut it there. I have already written the next chapter (which will be longer), it just needs some more beta reading and adjustments before I can finish it up. It should come very soon, I hope I can upload it this week still :).
> 
> Again thank you so much for all your great feedback. It makes me endlessly happy that people actually enjoy this story so far. I hope I can keep it up :).
> 
> Ok, on we go!

He didn’t wear shoes. The sand beneath his feet was hot, even though no sun was shining. It was the middle of the night, the half moon stood high, surrounded by big and small shining diamonds on the dark blue night sky. He wasn’t sure if he ever saw a starry night as clear as this.

He tripled on the spot so his feet wouldn’t burn too fast while the rest of his body shivered. As Jaime ran his palms up and down his arms to warm them he noticed he had his right hand. As he was looking down at himself he also noticed he was wearing slave clothing.

A horde of lions was pacing a few feet away. The males shook their wild, majestic mains while the females danced their long tails left and right. Jaime knew he was there to watch over them so that they wouldn’t attack each other. He had no idea how he would actually keep them from being at each others throat, should they really attack. He didn’t have anything that would help him keep them apart, not even a stick.

The lions were restless about something, they didn’t settle down and just kept pacing. Jaime felt he had been watching over them for a long time already and he was tired.

A closer look at the scars from the closest lions showed him that they must have already fought with one another in the past. Their golden eyes kept looking at him, assessing if he was still watching them. As if they would wait for one misstep on his part.

Jaimes eyes wandered up to the starts again, a longing feeling growing stronger and stronger in his chest. He wanted to follow them. Wanted to see where those beautiful glistening jewels would lead him. What adventures he could experience with the pale silver moon. But his duty was here, among the lions.

He decided he’s had enough. How much longer was he supposed to do this? And given the state of the beasts, he was not doing a good job anyways. He wanted to do what he wanted. So he did. He turned his back to the lions, face looking up above to the unreachable, and made the first step towards the night sky. The cold air breeze was carrying him, leading every one of his legs in front of the other, away from the hot burning ground. He was walking on air. It was glorious.

Jaime could hear the lions from far far below, roaring dangerously, growling, then fighting noises. They were killing each other. And he didn’t care. He’s had enough. He didn’t even turn his head to look back down. As if his gaze was bound to the stars and the moon, his eyes lightened up as he could see them moving closer. He would soon be able to touch them.

In ecstatic happiness about his achievement he reached out both of his whole hands to feel the surface of the beautiful moon, being so close now, Jaime thought he was shining silver himself. Just as his fingertips seemed to brush against the moons surface, he fell. The air didn’t carry him anymore. The night sky escaped him as he tried desperately to hold on to something. His body flipped over and he saw the huge hoard of lions looking up at him, expecting him to fall right in their midst. They seemed to grin at that, ready so sink their teeth in his shattered body. Then he hit the ground. And everything went black.

Jaime startled awake and found himself sitting straight on his camp bed, breathing heavily, sweat tickling down his temples.

There goes another one.

Jaime was not particularly distraught anymore about his nightmares, he has had way too many of those in the last years, especially lately. Many of his dreams repeated themselves, others changed all the time. Faces changed, situations changed, but the feelings they caused in him stayed the same. The feeling of failure. Guilt. Remorse. Being lost. They pierced through his very core and made him sore with fear and hatred towards himself.

Refusing to let these feelings eat him up again, he quickly got up and stretched his body awake. As he looked around he noticed that both Brienne and Greta were gone. Podrick was soundfully asleep, Geralt was in his normal mediating position against the willow trunk.

Dawn was not quite there yet, though not far off. As Jaime swiped his black cloak around his shivering shoulders, he passed the calm dosing horses and stepped through the morning dew twinkling on the grass that would leave his boots wet.

He wanted to wash the sweat off his face and chest and also chase off the shadows his nightmare had left behind. He had no time for these fights with himself anymore. He had a purpose now. The first which really mattered to him in a long long time. He needed to keep moving for this. Shake these doubts that tried to pull him back, hinder him to reach his destination. Not today.

The Kingslayer had decided to walk a little bit further down the stream as not to run into the two women who surely already bathed before the men were awake. But as he reached the running water and kneeled down, he heard voices. Rather close. He knew immediately that this must be the wench and the pregnant girl. So they had decided to bath further down as well. Probably to make it not so easy for the men to spot them. Ironic.

Jaime dived his hand into the cold stream and splashed the fresh cold into his face, rubbing it thoroughly. Then he did the same with his neck and collarbone, reaching down underneath his clothes to also reach his chest as far as possible.

He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes as he felt the water do its expected job and chased away the nightmare aftermath. He was alive. He was whole. He was breathing. He tried to make a difference. Finally tried to follow his heart. A humorless chuckle escaped his throat. That sounded so cheesy. But is was true. His heart told him that he had to at least try to save Westeros. To fight the undead army. He wouldn’t be a useful fighter in this war, he knew that. But that was not important. It was important that he did it. That he did what was right and just and honorable and all these things that knights did. All these things Jaime had wanted to be so much all his life and had been forsaken for him. Because people chose to see him a certain way after the biggest favour he had done to all of Wetseros. 

These fucking idiots. All these conceited delusional idiots. Sometimes Jaime thought he should have just not been bothered to kill Aerys. He should have let the Mad King burn all of them, all of Westeros so they couldn’t look down on him, pointing their fingers at him in accusation.

It was not the first time that he had to think of his little brother and what he had said on the day of his trial for Joffreys murder. In an emotional outburst Tyrion had declared he should have let Stannis take the city, let him kill them all. That was what he got back for saving them. His little brother. 

Tyrion had accused their father then of being on trail for being a dwarf his entire life. Jaime could relate. Yes, he could really relate. In a different way. He had been on trial for 17 years for being a Kingslayer. And now, the brothers even had Cerseis deathly wrath in common now. He should have just left the city that fateful night with Tyrion. Leaving everything behind. If he had only known then…

It was not fair though. He could not only blame others for himself. Not at all actually. If he would have just been able to handle it differently. Jaime didn’t know what this really meant, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling he should have been able to do things better. Better for himself and everyone around him. Maybe he should have tried to be a better influence on his children. On Joffrey especially. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been killed off. And Tyrion wouldn’t have been in this terrible situation and eventually killing their father. Maybe then Cersei would still have her children. And she wouldn’t have walked down this dark path of revenge and blood. And he would still have her. 

Would he be happy then? It was impossible to say. Maybe. Maybe not. At least this would be an outcome in favour of the other members of his family. Not necessarily for himself. But Jaime wasn’t sure with which version he could live with himself better.

A sudden image appeared before his eyes. Myrcella looking at him, happy, telling him she knew he was her father. Jaime had felt something he never had felt before in that moment. Before it had gotten taken away from him again just a moment later.

He splashed another round of icy water in his face to get out of this chaos in his head ands heart.  
It was ridiculous and pointless to think of the if’s and how’s and why’s at this point. The only way left was the way forward. If he looked back, he was lost. And this was the last thing for him to loose now. Himself. That mustn’t happen. Not yet.

A loud shriek made Jaime look around. It had been clearly one of the women. Jaime listened with halted breath for more sounds. But the next thing he heard was normal muffled voices again.

Still, he slowly got back on his feet and looked in the direction of the sounds. The picture had come into his mind of Greta and Brienne bathing, scrubbing their dirty skins, washing their clothes at the shore. His mind seemed to particularly concentrate on the Maid of Tarth. He felt a seed of curiosity blooming in him and found it suddenly very tempting to see where they were bathing.

For a moment, he stood there, contemplating what to do, telling himself that he was being an idiot and he should get the hell back to their camp immediately.

But instead, his legs carried him in the opposite direction, further down the stream, following the voices. Thick long reeds started growing at the bank and up the little hill where the forest began again. The Queens brother used this to get unseen back up between the trees and continued further from up there.

Dawn was coming fast now and the pale grey sky announced the rise of the sun was not far off. From up the steep slope, Jaime could now see the little fog level floating on the surface of the water, surrounding the reeds and tree trunks all around. It gave the forest a misty, magical feel and Jaime found himself admiring how the fog danced around his moving feet.

And then he was close enough. He heard the voices very close now and he slowed down, leaving one row of trees between him and the water as cover.

The stream had become much broader and deeper here, it could be almost considered a real river. Jaime now knew why the women had picked this spot, it was much easier to wash themselves in deeper water. 

He held his breath as he noticed a lean body crouching at the bank, back towards Jaime. It was easy to recognize Gretas long curls bound up to a nest so they wouldn’t get wet. From what he could tell from the distance she was naked and sitting on a wide cloak, scrubbing her legs.

Then, he heard water moving and his gaze wandered to the midst of the river. There she was. The maiden of Tarth was just surfacing from diving, the short strands of her hair covering her face. She stood then, her white shoulders and arms appearing as she slid her hands through her hair to stroke it all the way back, out of her face.

Jaimes feet were rooted to the ground as he watched her mesmerized, each thought left in his mind yelling him he should turn around an run as long as it was not too late. He heard it. The problem was, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t look away. He had to see. He had to see her.

They were talking again. Jaime couldn’t make out the words, but from Briennes gestures he figured she tried to convince Greta come go into the water. He saw the dark girl shake her head, then sliding closer to the water and putting her legs and hands in.

And then she surfaced. First, her prominent collarbone, then her flat chest, the breasts small, nipples hard from the cool water, Jaime could even see it from up there. Then came her flat stomach, her rather straight waist, her broad hips. Jaime held his breath as her thick legs ascended, encircling dark blonde pubic hair.

She wasn’t the definition of a female beauty. That was no news. Jaime had seen her naked after all before. But once he got past that he had found her body… enticing. He didn’t really know what it was. She was not curvy or soft. Her lines were straight, her skin pale covering her hard, muscular body. She was built to be a warrior, a fighter, not a mother or wife. And Jaime found himself unbelievably drawn to it.  
Already back at Harrenhal, as she had jumped out of the hot water, exposing herself completely to him. He had been startled at first. Not having expected this bold move from the conservative maiden. Even though he had known it had nothing to do with showing herself naked. And still it hadn’t prevented the growing pulsing in his groin, the hardening of his cock. He had been utterly confused back then and still didn’t completely understand it now. But at least he was not surprised as he felt the same reaction growing in him as he watched the maid stepping through the water, her never ending long legs splashing through the flat waves she had created. In the misty riverbank, her body glistening mysteriously as the water ran down her white skin, she looked almost otherwordly. Jaime never wanted to look at anything else anymore.

Brienne had reached the bank now, bent down to take a dry cloth and dry herself before dressing. That was when she looked up. As if she had finally felt his stare upon her. She didn’t have to search, her eyes met his instantly, as if she had known all along that he was there. And she stopped her movements, stood still as a salt pillar. Jaime cursed himself a million times over, his mind yelling at him to get away, to at least have the decency to look away now, now that she knew she was being watched. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it was the shock that paralyzed him or Briennes eyes that pierced him down mercilessly, even from this distance. Jaime knew exactly how her face must look now close up. Fuck.

The maidens sudden stand-still had caught Gretas attention and she turned around, trying to make out what Brienne was looking at This movement seemed to finally free the Kingslayer from his paralysis and he quickly stepped behind a tree. He prayed that at least the girl didn’t see him.

With fast, long strides he hurried back to their camp, taking a detour that would lead him not along the river bank but through the forest so he couldn’t be seen. 

He was such an idiot. Complete, utter idiot. What the hell was he thinking? One could not simply sneak up on the strongest maiden of Westeros and gape at her naked, like a piece in an exhibition.

‘Ser Jaime!’ he heard his name called from the distance. Oh no. She came after him. That quick?

He had to force himself not to break out into a run. Own it, you fucking imbecile. Stand for what you just did.

He hadn’t expected her to tackle the situation right away, he thought she was too awkward and shy for that, think the situation too embarrassing to speak about it. Well, apparently not. 

He turned slowly around, his arms crossing in front of his chest as to shield him from what was about to hit him, his lips a thin line, his forehead in worrying frowns.

He saw a tall figure hurry towards him, fully dressed, her pale hair making her easily recognizable. Jaime waited until she had reached him.

Breathing heavily she stopped in front of him, her still wet hair falling into her face at the sides.

Her striking blue eyes were ice cold as she pinned him down with them again, burning through him. ‘What the hell do you think you are doing?’ she hissed despitefully. Jaimes insides cramped up. ‘Brienne… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…’ he started, but the maid interrupted impatient.  
‘Yes, you didn’t mean to stare at a naked pregnant girl. Of course. Do you take me for a complete idiot?’ she asked sharply, her hand shooting forward, grabbing his arm.

Jaime startled at the touch. Then his mind caught up with what she had just said. It made his forehead furrow even more, his mouth falling open in disbelief. ‘To stare at- at who?’

‘Oh, don’t.’ she said, shaking her head slowly with this knowing look on her face. ‘Don’t even try. What else would you have been doing up here?’

Of course. Of course that is what she would think. Because it wouldn’t even occur to her for one second that someone could be looking at her. She could be so incredibly thick sometimes.

Jaimes eyes rolled around, searching frantically for a good answer. ‘I- uh… was enjoying the view? I mean-‘ Shit. ‘Not THAT view, just… you know, the water, the mist, the…’ Jaime drew imaginary circles with his hand, as if it could catch him a believable excuse. But none would come.

‘She is a helpless, innocent pregnant GIRL for sevens sake! She could be your daughter!’ Brienne hissed mercilessly. 

‘Well, you know, strictly speaking, the two words innocent and pregnant don’t go well in the same sentence…’ Jaime started in an attempt to lighten up the mood, but immediately stopped when he saw Briennes face harden even more.

Jaime closed his eyes for a few seconds in defeat, inhaling and exhaling deeply. ‘Look. I was NOT here to stare at Greta. That IS the truth.’

Jaime braced himself internally to confess, but before he could open his mouth again, Briennes eyes narrowed, releasing his arm and stepped back. ‘You know, I don’t care what… perversities you are used to in Kings Landing, but keep them away from Greta. It seems as if from now on I will not only have to protect her from that witcher guy, but also from you.’

The coldness of her voice made Jaimes blood freeze in his veins and before he could try to somehow speak up, she had left him standing there in the cold, walking back to the camp alone with long strides, showing clearly her anger.

The Queens brother stood there for a few minutes longer before he too turned and headed back, much slower.


	9. A prominent face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this happened :D. I was supposed to be at a meeting today and it got cancelled short notice. So I took the newly acquired free time to finish off this chapter right away.
> 
> Please excuse any mistakes and errors you might find and I'm looking forward to your feedback.
> 
> Enjoy :)!

Her last words had stung. He knew exactly what she had been getting at. Cersei. The Kingslayer without honor who fucked his own sister and now gaped at a naked pregnant girl. Was that how Brienne saw him? Was that who he actually was? It was moments like these when Jaime was sure that he could never turn his life around again, that he had been down the wrong road for far too long to change. 

No hope for the sinner. No mercy for the fallen. Not from the maid especially. And it was important what she thought of him. It was so important. It seemed that, as long as she looked upon him with approval and content, he wasn’t completely lost yet. That her judgement would save him. Or doom him. 

As Jaime returned to the camp with hanging shoulders, he saw Greta applying the balm Jaime had given Brienne, to the maidens neck wounds. The girl seemed in a good mood, she hadn’t noticed anything what was going on. Jaime was glad. Having one woman stand on his toes was enough. Especially when it was a specimen like Brienne.

‘Where the hell has everyone been this morning? Having a little scenic walk? We need to keep moving, come on get ready.’ Geralt snarled at the Kingslayer. Feeling Briennes ice cold stare on him, he quickly packed up his bed and got his horse ready without even trying to look at her.

He had decided to let this situation sit for a moment so Brienne could cool down. She was stubborn enough as it was, trying to argue with her when she was heated on top would go nowhere.

‘Here, for you.’ he heard Podrick say and turn around. Jaime thought he was being addressed, but it was instead Greta. He saw Briennes squire giving the girl a water bottle. ‘I put the herbs in I found this morning.’ he explained as Greta took the bottle with a broad smile. ‘Thank you.’

Apparently thinking that everyone was trying to harm Greta right now, Brienne was burning through Podrick now, who quickly explained: ‘I-I just put some Athlentis in and mixed it with ginger we still had with us, my lady. It is a vitalizing herb mix and should help keeping lady Gretas circulation up. You know, be-because she has faintness feelings during the day and-‘ he stammered, seeming to shrink under the maidens stare.

Jaime's mouth turned up a little. I know how you feel, mate.

Brienne seemed to be satisfied with his answer, she nodded and turned away again.

 

\--

 

The next days went by without any major occurrences. The temporary increase of the temperatures they had experienced had shifted back to much colder climate again and the further up North they came, the more snow was covering the sides of the road and glistening from the tree branches. It had a weird beauty to it, as if the snow covered all the hideousness of the world and just lay its icy silent blanket on it to make it right again.

It was still only a rather thin layer, but Jaime knew it would become quickly more and dreaded how much of the icy white they would have to face all the way up in Winterfell. Everyone was wearing more layers of clothing now and thick cloaks. Only Geralt was fine with a, as Jaime found, way too thin cloak on top of his usual armor. But then again, as he always reminded everyone, he was a mutant and being cold was probably just another thing that didn’t apply to him.

Podrick continued to mix herbs into Greta’s water and also seemed to pay close attention that she would get enough to eat when he would cook. Which seemed to help, Greta seemed stable and chatty, riding next to Brienne’s squire every so often and also talking to the maid herself a lot. Jaime kept closer to Geralt in these days. Not that he was particularly conversational, but he didn’t seem to mind Jaime’s company and they rode along in silent camaraderie. 

Jaime knew that Greta hated the witcher’s guts and Brienne didn’t trust him, but Jaime actually found himself comfortable with this big man around. He would watch out for them, hunt down little animals (which would get less and less the further North they came), take the longest watch at night and seemed to overall be very considerate. Especially of Greta and the baby. It wasn’t very apparent, mostly little things. Jaime noticed Geralt would always tell the girl to make her bed at the most comfortable and hidden spots when they made camp, would glance at her and suggest rests when Greta looked worn and tired. Of course it was in his interest to take care of the girl as well as get them all fast and save North, but still. Jaime had the impression the mutant wanted to appear much tougher and rougher than he actually was. 

It went along with him deciding to take Jaime along when he had helped him defeat Cersei’s soldiers. Sure, he needed a scout. But as it was very clear by now, the guy was used to live on the road, to find his way around, he would have been just fine without him. But he took him on. A burden. Geralt was a curious man.

The thick forests were behind them and they faced more open lands now which made it much more difficult to travel hidden. As it turned out, they were not the only ones trying to stir around the Kingsroad. Although the only ones heading North. The group met several travelers heading South. Some travelling alone, some with their families. When Geralt asked a father why they were not using the main road, he chuckled: ‘No, Ser. Too many folks out and about these days. Lots of people want to escape the madness in the North, Kingsroad is like a bazaar. Many good people. But also many bad ones. Too dangerous for a big family like ours, don’t want our little ones in danger, so we take detours.’ ‘Madness in the North?’ Geralt raised his ashen eyebrows.  
‘You haven’t heard? Why, you are the last ones not to know then. Strange things happening up there. Folks say the Long Night will fall there first, the White Walkers are coming for the Wall. And we seen the Dragonqueen fly her dragons beyond the wall. If to fight them or unite with them, we don’t know. But we see her beasts. Winged monsters they are, big as mountains, shrieking like demons. My poor Leni still dreamed of them sounds days after. We don’t want to be anywhere near those things. Whatever‘s happening, it’s not good. The North is no longer save. If you have any sense, turn around and head South. You won’t find any happiness up there.’ And with that, the man nodded them farewell and hurried his family along. ‘Watch out for wolves.’ Podrick called after them as they kept moving.

Riding into the morning the next day, Geralt asked Jaime, who was again riding next to him: ‘How easily do people recognize you?’. ‘If I hide my non-existent hand, normally not that easily. Why?’ Jaime answered. Geralt nodded towards their group behind them. ‘Our supplies run thin. If it is true that a lot of people are travelling the Kingsroad, there might be traders and merchants among them. Might be worth the risk.’ 

Jaime glanced at Geralt, who was looking back at him. ‘It is getting much colder. Not sure if the ability of feeling cold has been taken from you as well, but for normal boring humans like us it is getting freezing.’ Jaime said. Geralt nodded. ‘I know. We will not be able to sleep outside for much longer.’ ‘There are a lot of Ins and pubs along the Kingsroad as well.’ Jaime said.   
‘Yes, you said so before. But can we risk it?’ the witcher asked.   
Jaime shrugged. ‘With some pubs, we can’t. With others we might.’

When they informed the rest of the group of their plan to ride towards the main road, the reaction was a mixture of fear, concern and hope. But everyone agreed that they needed supplies and a place to sleep sheltered from the cold. So after some discussion, it was decided that they would slowly turn towards the Kingsroad and see what and who they would find travelling there.

While they were discussing the best path to take, Jaime noticed that Brienne would still not look at him. She would respond to his questions in a formal, polite, but cold manner and then lead the conversation back to the others. Jaime knew the maid was slow to digest what had happened, but this stubborn ignoring was getting to him. She didn’t leave him any chance to break the ice. Never looked at him long enough that he could read her eyes, smile at her apologetically, say something nice. It was hopeless, Jaime had to tackle the problem head on, he knew it. 

The problem was that he didn’t really know how. Because before he could talk to her about it, he had to talk to himself about it first. Be clear what he had done and why. And he had refused to do so. Because he knew it was unsettling. Because he knew he had been running away from this for a very long time by now. And he actually had no intention of stopping to run now. Except he had the feeling that he had lost control of the direction he had been running to. It had always been away from Brienne and what she meant to him. Since they were reunited he seemed to have made a turn and ran straight towards her instead without realizing.

Had searched her company, wanted to take care of her wounds, longed to see her naked and even went to the lengths to actually do it. His behavior was alarming and inappropriate and had caused tension only a few days into their reunion. He couldn’t continue like that. He needed to clear things, with her and also with himself and then act on whatever came out of it. 

And Jaime was afraid of that. Had always been. There always had been too much at stake. It was too dangerous to really think about it. But now, he had nothing to loose anymore. It was only him now. The obstacles were gone. And he had kept Brienne too close to his heart all these years. Because he had thought it safe. Because he had been convinced they would never see each other again. He had been so sure of that. So it was okay to keep her in his dreams. The last dream which hadn’t died yet. It was Brienne. She was his dream. She was him in a different life. Where he hadn’t killed his king. Where he was the honorable knight in shining armor, riding a white warhorse, protecting the poor and weak. With high values and morals and a soul purer than his countless deeds that would fill the White Book. That would have been him, in a perfect world. 

But in this godsforsaken life, he wasn’t any of that. But she was. She was his last dream of everything he had wanted to be. She was everything that was right in a world full of wrongs. And he had felt himself drawn to her for a long time now. Jaime didn’t know when exactly it had started but he knew when he had first realized it. It was when he had to leave her behind at Harrenhal and had talked to her for the last time in her chamber. It had been unusually painful to leave her behind there and after he had learned what would most likely be her fate, he had turned around to get her. To rescue her from that bear pit. To take her with him. That had been when he knew for sure that something had changed in him. That suddenly, Cersei was not the only woman he dreamed of anymore. And he had been utterly unsettled by this discovery. So much that he didn’t want to uncover any more of it.

And now, so much time had passed. And Jaime still felt this way. Even stronger so, if that was possible. Gods, this was so ridiculous. He didn’t know what was right and what was wrong, he only knew it was important that she would talk to him again. Like him again. He needed her to approve of him. And for this to happen, he had to be honest. Jaime shook his head as these thoughts went through his head. He sounded like a little boy. It was pathetic, really. Maybe Cersei had been right about him. He was the stupidest Lannister that ever lived.

So when they made camp again one evening and he got an especially cold shoulder from the maid once more, he decided now was the time to tackle this. There were distant noises, another group had made camp not too far from them. As they journeyed towards the Kingsroad, it had gotten normal to not be the only people travelling anymore and so far, everyone they had encountered had been nice, decent people. Still, Geralt immediately took off to scout if those were potentially dangerous. Podrick was getting out thick furs that would serve them as blankets for the night and Greta immediately snatched some and made her bed below a tall, wide tree. The snow wasn’t able to reach ground below trees and their protective branches yet and therefore it was not difficult to still find good snowless spots for the night.

Podrick was attending to the horses now and led them to a nearby tree as Greta suddenly stopped making her bed, shot up and quickly retreated to some bushes. Knowing she was probably being sick again, Jaime watched her hurry away, clutching her belly which appeared to be fuller than a few days ago. If that was possible. He hoped she wouldn’t give birth just yet, but the belly hadn’t sunken yet. He knew from Cersei’s pregnancies that as long as the belly didn’t lower, the birth was not near yet. 

Brienne cleared her throat loudly and Jaime’s eyes wandered to the maiden, who had just kneeled down to make a fire, some branches in her arm. She shot him a reproachful look before attending to her task.

‘I’m not allowed to look at her fully dressed either then, am I?’ Jaime asked annoyed.  
As he didn't get an answer, he continued: ‘Are you still not talking to me?’ 

‘Of course I am talking to you, Ser Jaime.’ she replied flatly, not looking at him as she ignited the fire, then blowing softly in the branches to provide the little flames with enough air to grow.

There it was again. Ser. He got a lot of Sers these days.   
‘Yes, you do. But you also don’t at the same time... For what it’s worth, I am not interested in the girl.’ he explained, knowing it would only earn him another scolding look. Which it did.

‘So you have finally come up with a reasonable excuse why you were up that hill?’ Brienne asked, now cautiously adding more firewood as the flames started cackling and hugging the branches more and more.

‘Yes, I have, as a matter of fact. Do you want to hear it?’ Jaime asked, challenging.

Finally Briennes eyes met his, crossing her arms before her chest. ‘If it makes you feel better.’

‘I was up there to stare, it is true. And it was wrong and disrespectful, yes. But I wasn’t staring at the girl. I was staring at you.’

The words were out. And he could see their effect immediately on Brienne’s face. Her scolding expression got lost in widening eyes and an open mouth. She had not expected this. Of course she hadn’t.

Jaime crouched down and drew closer to the flames to warm himself, his eyes never leaving Brienne’s. Her mouth was opening and shutting several times, apparently having too many thoughts on her tongue to get them out.

Jaime thought he would be panicky or scared, having said these words. It was strange that he wasn’t. 

After some moments, the maid finally stammered: ‘Y-You… were… why would-… you- you already know what I look like.’ 

‘I do. And I liked what I saw at Harrenhal. I wanted to see it again.’ Jaime responded calmly, desperate not to break eye contact so that Brienne could see the sincerity of his words. But she looked away now, the words being too intimate for her comfort. Her arms still crossed in front of her, she sat next to the fire completely tense, her eyes wandering to everything around her except him.

‘You… you are lying. You just want to get out of this.’ she said.

This made anger swell up the Queen’s brother and, without consciously deciding to do so, he slid quickly near Brienne, grabbing her by the shoulder so that she would look at him. Which she did. Her words were defiant. But her eyes were open, vulnerable. Jaime had to fight the urge to just kiss her.

‘Have I ever lied to you, Brienne?’ he asked, his voice strangely thick.

‘No.’ she admitted.

‘And I would now? You know I fucked my sister for hells sake, you really think I would not admit to staring at a naked girl?’

Brienne’s sapphire eyes scanned intensely over his face, trying to find whatever she was looking for in it. They were close, Jaime could see the sea of freckles that covered her nose and cheeks. He couldn’t remember when he had last been so close to her and the realization made his heart jump in a weird way.

‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked, her voice not more than a whisper.

‘Because I want to be honest.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Yes, you do. You are just scared. As am I by the way.’ he smiled weakly and for a second he thought her lips also twitched upwards before something made her stop and her face turned cold again.

The heat that had emitted from her left him as she abruptly got up and left him sitting there alone. Jaime’s hand was grasping air.

‘Let’s assume for a moment this were true. How does this little detail change the shame of your action? Do you think it a compliment to admit that you stare at a naked women? Am I supposed to feel flattered?’ she said while she was picking up branches again and tossed them into the fire, just for the sake for doing something.

The Kingslayer scratched his neck uncomfortably when he said: ‘Of course not. I told you it doesn’t make my actions any better. But I wanted you to know that it was because of you. And I want to apologize for it.’

Brienne glanced at him.

‘I’m sorry. I really am.’ Jaime said with pleading eyes. ‘I just… couldn’t resist.’ he added charmingly, hoping the last comment would earn him maybe a little eyebrow raiser, a tiny smile, something to lighten this up. But of course, Brienne wouldn’t give him no such thing.

She just stared at him again across the fire, seemingly thinking hard about something. After a few moments she said: ‘I accept your apology. If you tell me why you are here.’

‘You know why I’m here, I had told you right away.’

‘Yes, I know what reason leads you North. I want to now what reason made you leave.’

Jaime faltered. There it was again. Could he face it now? Actually speak the words? He knew he had to sooner rather than later. His lips parted, trying to form the first sentence, as a loud neighing let him whirl around in surprise.

A group of men was approaching, one looking more haggard and dirty than the other. ‘Oi, you folks! Looking for some freeriders?’ one of them called out as they halted in front of them.

There were five of them. Sketchy looking men, freeriders indeed. Jaime quickly hid his right arm underneath his cloak.

‘No, thank you good Sers. We are appropriately equipped and skilled enough in combat to take care of ourselves.’ Brienne answered in a clear, strong voice, walking slowly near Jaime, trying to cover him from their view.

‘Are ya? One man and a… are you a woman?’ another of the men giggled and his comrades joined in. ‘What is a manwoman like you doing out here?’

‘I am Brienne of Tarth and a sworn sword to Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell. She is expecting our timely return.’ Brienne stated, not the least irritated by the mens’ amusement.

‘Is that so. Snow’s gettin’ deeper by the day now. Fuckin’ cold too. You might need some more men to snuggle up in the night and keep you warm, ya’ know. We are freeriders, some food and drink is payment enough for us.’

‘The lady said no, didn’t she? Why aren’t you on your way and seek work elsewhere? Maybe start with getting some horses, so the name ‘freeriders’ actually applies.’ Jaime said sharply, standing up.

‘Ey, hold on, I know your face!’ a man from the back suddenly called out, pointing a gloved finger at Jaime. ‘I know you from the Riverrun siege, you are Jaime fockin’ Lannister!’ 

Jaime’s heart stood still for a moment as all the men now looked at him in surprise and curiosity. ‘You sure?’ one of his comrades asked. ‘Yeah yeah, no doubt! He had told us what a big pile of scumbags we all are when he took over the siege with his shiny pretty knights. A real fucker that one. All full of himself’

‘I assure you that this is not Jaime Lannister. Just another serviceman on the road in lady Sansa Stark’s service.’ Brienne said loudly.

‘Aye, he is isn’t he. What’s his name then?’ the men who recognized Jaime asked.

‘Tristan.’ Brienne said right away.

‘I see. And why is ‘Tristan’ hiding his right arm behind his cloak, beastwoman?’

‘Why would Jaime Lannister, the Queen’s brother and Lord Commander of the Kings Guard be here on the road and not in Kings Landing?’ Brienne asked, her voice still clear and strong. Jaime admired her nerve in that moment.

‘He’s no Lord Commander no more, that one. Has been charged with treason in the highest degree. Haven’t you heard?’ the man replied with a big nasty smile that revealed several missing teeth.

Now Brienne seemed to be out of words. ‘He… what?’ she asked perplexed.

‘Yeah, fallen down from grace he has. The Queen wants his head on a spike and promised a very nice bag of gold for the bounty hunter who gets him.’

‘Show us your hand, Tristan!’ another one of the group called towards Jaime and the others joined in immediately.

Brienne glanced at Jaime, her eyes big with confusion and questions. Jaime responded with knowing eyes and nodded. They drew their swords simultaneously and got into a fighting position.

‘Ha, I told ya, didn’t I?’ the man said triumphantly as Jaime revealed his arm where the golden hand was shining in the evening sun.

‘Should we get ‘im alive or kill ‘im right away?’ another man asked.

‘Let’s try to get him alive. I would really like to pay him back for his stuck up pretty nose from Riverrun. But if he’s too much of a pain, we just cut ‘is head off. That’s all the Queens wants anyways.’ 

The men murmured in agreement and drew their swords as well.

‘You had to open your mouth, hadn’t you.’ Brienne whispered angrily as the men circled around them. 

‘Deepest apologies for trying to have your back.’ Jaime returned, turning slowly so Brienne and him were back to back, trying to have an eye on all of their attackers.

The Queen’s brother had no idea how good they were as fighters. As poor and rundown as they looked, given the scars some of them had, they were not inexperienced in combat and Brienne wasn’t wearing her armor. He cursed himself once more for his uselessness as he raised his sword. 

They all attacked at the same time. As their swords clashed and fighting cries rang, Jaime noticed that they were not well trained. But they were quick and used to fight together. The prospect of having such a good catch at hand made them eager on top.

As Jaime was fighting two at the same time and could even disarm one, the other immediately cut in and send a hard blow at Jaime’s sword, which his left hand couldn’t withstand. With gritting teeth Jaime saw his sword fly to away and the man immediately tackled him to the ground.

As he tried furiously to wring himself free, he heard first Brienne cry and then one of the freeriders. I need to help her, he thought desperately, but the grip in which the man on top of him had him was impossible to get out of and his attacker had one hand tightly around his throat.

Just as his air was running really short and his vision became blurry, the man on top of him moaned in agony and his hand’s pressure vanished. Immediately Jaime wrung himself free and pushed the guy off of him. As he looked down he saw a big gaping dark red hole through his skull. Brienne was standing over the Kingslayer, heavily breathing, reaching down a hand which he took to pull himself up. 

‘Are you hurt?’ Brienne asked, her voice concerned. Jaime shook his head ‘All fine.’ His eyes quickly scanned over her, but she seemed unharmed as well.

He picked up Widow’s Wail again and took in the scene. Brienne had killed not only his attacker, but two others lay on the ground in their own blood as well.

‘Where are the other two?’ he asked.

‘Ran.’ She answered.

‘And now they are back.’ came a voice behind them.

Both turned around to see the remaining two freeriders, their evil grins making their faces even uglier as one of them had one massive arm around a terrified Greta, his other hand holding a knife to her throat.

‘Give us the Kingslayer, or we kill the girl.’ her captor said to Brienne, tightening his knife at her throat.

‘Easy. That is a pregnant girl you are having there.’ Jaime said, lowering his sword.

‘So? What do I care?’ the man snarled.

‘No one needs to die. Here. See?’ Jaime said, dropping his sword to the ground. He could feel Brienne’s warning stare on him as he slowly approached the man with his arms stretched out in front of him in a calming gesture.

‘I’m coming to you, see? Now, let the girl go.’ he said.

As soon as he was close enough, the second one of the captors grabbed Jaime’s arms, pulled them to his back and knotted them together with a thick rope.

Jaime looked at Greta, who looked back at him with fear.

‘Set her free.’ Jaime demanded again, but the men only laughed. ‘We will. But first we want to have some fun with her.’

‘Set her free now!’ Brienne repeated Jaime’s demand, raising her sword high.

‘Or what, beasty? One wrong move from you and both of your little friends are dead.’ Gretas captor laughed and gestured to his friend to get their horses.

Jaime felt himself roughly dragged along as his captor went to the animals, loosened two and brought them to his friend.

Greta got lifted on Geralt’s brown mare and the freerider hopped behind her before placing the knife back at her throat, holding her tight in front of him. ‘We even do a good deed. This one can’t get pregnant anymore, so she won’t have any consequences from us fucking her. Ha! And who knows, maybe we even sell her. She has a red eye, maybe some freakshow pays money for her. Well, for this we could also take you along, beastwoman. We sell you as the ugliest woman alive.’ Both men fell into a loud laughter.

‘Get out of the way.’ the other freerider then snarled to Brienne as he had mounted Gretas black curly horse with Jaime in front.

The Kingslayer saw Brienne’s panicked expression as she stood there, her white hands clutching her sword, probably thinking of a possibility out of this just as much as him.

Jaime looked around for anything he could use to knock out this idiot, but couldn’t find anything close enough. And he couldn’t leave Greta with those bastards, the seven only knew what they would be doing with her. He would stay with them and take the first opportunity he could find to escape with the girl. He had no idea how, but he would find a way. After all, he didn’t do well as a prisoner. He always got out. Even with one hand.

‘What is all this?’ Jaime suddenly heard a deep, harsh voice.

Geralt had appeared, yellow eyes taking in the scene in front of him.

‘Another one of you lot? We are taking your friends on a little trip. Don’t worry, we take good care of them. Hay!’ Jaime’s captor said and gave his horse the heel, as did his friend.

‘Doubt it.’ the witcher said calmly, put two fingers between his lips and whistled. His horse on which Greta and her captor were sitting neighed in recognition, turned and trotted towards its owner.

‘Wha-? No, no! Turn around, you stupid beast! Go, Go! What the fuck are you doing?’ the freerider said, trying desperately to get the horse to do what he wanted. But all reins pulling and belly kicking didn’t do anything.

‘Don’t call her stupid beast. She doesn’t like that. Roach?’ Geralt said and whistled again, this time a different tune. The horse stopped walking towards him and instead started to lurch and jump wildly.

‘What-what the-…. STOP!’ the freerider yelled before he couldn’t hold on any longer and when the horse stood completely on its back hooves, her fell together with the girl to the ground.

Before he knew what was happening, Brienne was on him, dragged him up and away from Greta and sank her sword through his stomach.

The man’s eyes grew big before his eyeballs disappeared in his skull.

‘Shit.’ Jaime heard his rider breathe as he gave his horse the heel and galloped away.

Jaime got bounced around as he tried to keep his balance on the running horse. Only the hands of his captor kept him roughly in place. The way too long main of Greta’s horse was whipping in his face and the heavy odour of the man behind him made him nauseous. This was going great. Now what?

‘Try anything. Anything. And you are dead.’ he heard a whisper in his ear and he rolled his eyes. As if he was able to do anything in that moment.

Suddenly he heard more thundering hooves and turned his head as far as he could. Geralt and Brienne were following them on their horses. Geralt was approaching on the right, Brienne on the left. Greta’s horse might be the prettiest, but it has always been the slowest of the group. Jaime thanked the gods this stupid man had chosen it.

‘It is over, stop.’ Brienne called out when she was close enough, but the man only hurried the horse along more determined. Jaime saw Geralt draw one of his swords as he drove his mare closer to the freerider. His captor blocked the sword blow with his own clumsily as he tried to fight and ride at the same time. Jaime noticed immediately that he was not used to doing that. Geralt on the other hand seemed to never have done anything else in his life. He had dropped the reins, his mare keeping next to the fleeing horse completely on its own, apparently not scared of the proximity. The witcher landed some more blows, aiming for the guy's belly and head.

Jaime prayed to the seven that Geralt would not sink his sword into him by accident. It was impossible to aim precisely when galloping like this, skilled at riding and fighting or not. The man’s grip on his prisoner had loosened considerably while fighting Geralt and Jaime considered for a moment to jump off. Given how close the other two were riding on both sides however, chances that they would gallop right over him was too high. As Greta’s horse started to panick, it whirled around its head and jumped left and right, trying to escape the lock the pursuers had put it in. Jaime tried desperately to grab the man’s clothes behind him to stabilize himself as he was whirled around wilder and wilder.

He turned his head carefully to see that Brienne was riding on equal level now on their left side, watching the fight but not interfering. He suspected she thought it too dangerous for Jaime to attack from two sides.

Just as Jaime whirled his head back to where the fighting was happening, his vision turned red as his captor’s blood covered his face. He felt the grip on him loosen now completely and the weight of the man behind him fall on him completely. Before he could try to stabilize his position somehow, he felt hit by a strong force and whipped off the horse. Jaime saw Greta’s horse speeding away as the world turned upside down and his body hit the ground hard. In a whirl of colours he felt a warm energy surrounding him, shielding him from the impact as he rolled over the ground several times before laying still.

‘Argh.’ the Kingslayer moaned, blinking hard, disoriented. Everything was spinning and it took him several moments before he could recognize the world around him again. 

‘Are you alright?’ he heard Brienne’s voice near his ear. Blinking a few more times, he slowly turned his head and looked directly into her eyes. She was lying next to him, her arms wrapped around his body.

‘It was you. I knew something big had hit me.’ he grinned, moaning again in pain as she slapped him on the temple.

‘I take this as a yes.’ she snarled as she pulled her arm out from underneath him and rolled away on her back.

‘That was quite the pursuit. Is Greta save?’ Jaime asked, still breathing heavily.

‘Yes. I left her with Podrick.’ Brienne answered still out of breath as well. Jaime looked at her, lying next to him, her flat chest rising and lowering in a fast rhythm. His heart did this jump against his ribs again as he took in her shape hungrily, ending up in her flushed face, red from the action and wet from the snow, her lips a wide red, her blue eyes looking at him in a way he couldn’t decipher. ‘Thank you.’ he said.

‘How is our damsel in distress?’ came Geralt’s voice from behind. Jaime turned his head and Brienne sat up as the witcher came trotting back to them on his mare, dragging along Greta’s and Brienne’s horse on their reins. Jaime saw the freerider next to Greta’s horse on the ground, one of his legs stuck in the stirrup of the saddle. He got dragged along and painted a long scarlett strip behind him where we had been dragged along. He was dead.

‘That was quite impressive. Good jump.’ Geralt continued, nodding approvingly towards Brienne. Jaime watched her nod back, almost smiling, as she unbound the rope around Jaime’s wrists. It was the first time they ever had a positive exchange and Jaime smiled gladly.

‘Do you need help?’ Geralt asked.

‘No, we are fine.’ Brienne said and got up. Jaime looked at his freed arms and checked his stump. He was surprised the golden hand hadn’t fallen off. His stump was slightly hurting from being pressed in an uncomfortable way against the insides of the dummy while being bound up, but otherwise everything seemed fine. He got up, panting, and knocked off the dirt and snow on his clothes as good as he could. He still felt a bit dizzy and was glad the horses were so close.

Brienne must have seen him swaying slightly, because she came to stabilize him and lead him to her horse. As he leaned against it, he glanced over to Geralt’s mare. ‘You trained your horse well.’ he remarked. Geralt smiled proudly and gave his mare an affectionate clap on the shoulder. ‘This is Roach. She has been with me through a lot.’

‘Well, I guess that saved Greta. Thanks for that.’ Jaime said, but Geralt shook his head and his face turned serious again.

‘That was the last time I saved you from greedy people trying to steal you away. We need to hit more frequented roads and cannot risk every idiot recognizing you for your missing hand. I wouldn’t mind you being of more use in a fight either. You need your hand back.’ he said matter of factly.

Jaime snorted amused at his words, raising his eyebrows high.  
‘I couldn’t agree more. That’s why I water it everyday and expose it to the sun. But it just won’t grow back. Real bummer.’ he said sarcastically.

‘I’m not joking. There might be a way.’ Geralt said, dead serious.

Jaime didn’t answer, he was still convinced this guy was pulling his leg. Tiny snowflakes started falling all around them as Geralt dismounted and came to stand right in front of Jaime and Brienne, looking the Queen’s brother right in the eyes. ‘Would you like your hand back, pretty boy?’


End file.
